What a Bunch of Nonjon
by nonjon
Summary: An unrelated series of ficlets, drabbles, one-shots, unfinished and abandoned fics from primarily the Harry Potter fandom and a couple others. This is like a miscellaneous folder or a random fic dump. Read at your own risk.
1. You Shall Not Harm Harry Potter!

_**Author's Note**: "What a bunch of nonjon" is just going to be my miscellaneous posting collection. Some drabbles, some abandoned ideas, some incomplete starts I probably won't finish. Primarily it'll be weird fics I don't know what to do with. Some will be new to you, but some may not. _

_Most will be Harry Potter, but some won't. If you're looking for the next great fanfic, something long or updated regularly, then look elsewhere. This is the random crap file, the mental dump where plot bunnies get put out to pasture. I'll most likely preface each update with an explanation of whether a fic is old or new, was posted elsewhere, why it's here and not a story of its own. As well as a warning if it's complete, abandoned, or unfinished. And of course what fandom it is._

_So without further ado, I shall begin with a repost of an old Harry Potter one-shot that was deleted from this very website. It was removed because I had rated it T and others took offense to that. My interpretation was that if I had rated the fic M then it never would have been removed, and ever since then I've rated every fic I post on this site as "M." Statistically, it's just safer. And more often than not my fics have enough crude language and events that the M rating is warranted anyway._

_I've cleaned up the writing a little, but this is from when my writing was much rougher and the drugs affected me much more. Consider yourself warned.  
_

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**Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**

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YOU SHALL NOT HARM HARRY POTTER!  
**

Dobby was a very happy elf.

It was Harry Potter's seventh year at Hogwarts and he'd been named Head Boy. Over four years ago, Harry Potter had freed Dobby and ever since that moment Dobby knew Harry Potter was without doubt the absolute greatest wizard ever. Harry Potter had destroyed He-Whose-Name-Be-Explanatory-And-Obvious and put an end to the dark times.

Sadly even in the aftermath of the defeat of Don't-Say-His-Name-You-Stupid-Elf Harry Potter was not entirely safe. There were still bad wizards and witches out there. There were still many people who wanted to hurt Harry Potter. And Dobby considered it his duty to protect Harry Potter.

Dobby informed the Headmaster that Dobby was going to focus on protecting Harry Potter. Dobby assured the Headmaster that Dobby would not neglect his other house elf duties, but when compared to Harry Potter, those duties came in a distant second. The Headmaster agreed with Dobby and thought that protecting Harry Potter was an excellent idea. Ever since that moment Dobby knew the Headmaster was a truly great and wonderful wizard, probably the second best in the world.

Dobby hid and watched Harry Potter during the welcoming feast. Dobby didn't think Harry Potter noticed all the threats around him. Dobby saw the hunger for evil in many witches' and a few wizards' eyes. Dobby knew it would be up to him to protect Harry Potter. Even the greatest, most wonderful wizards sometimes needed help from their friends. And that was what Harry Potter had called Dobby: his friend.

Dobby took that honor and responsibility very seriously.

Ever since Dobby had been freed, Harry Potter was something of an honorary Master to Dobby. Dobby treated Harry Potter like a Master, even if Harry Potter treated Dobby like a friend.

It was three days into the school year when Dobby first got to save Harry Potter. Dobby felt his honorary Master's emotions running wild. Fear clearly shining out among them. Dobby knew Harry Potter was in the private Head Boy's room. Dobby burst through the door and saw the grisly scene playing out before him. Harry Potter was fighting Miss Ginny Wheezy. Harry Potter had obviously been fighting back hard, as he'd successfully banished away all of Miss Wheezy's clothes. But Miss Wheezy's left hand had a firm grip on Harry Potter while she appeared to be biting him in a very sensitive area.

Dobby saw the anguish on Harry Potter's face and knew he had to act fast.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby screamed as his house elf magic tore Miss Wheezy away from Harry Potter. She slammed into the far wall and slumped to the floor unconscious.

Harry Potter turned to Dobby with wide and arguably thankful eyes. He asked "Dobby! What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Dobby smiled and explained, "Dobby is protecting Harry Potter." A snap of his fingers announcing his disappearance and Dobby was gone, back to his house elf work.

Roughly a week later Dobby again felt a distress call coming from his unofficial Master. Even through the silencing charms placed around the Astronomy Tower, Dobby could hear Harry Potter screams of helplessness. When Dobby got to the roof, he was shocked at what he found. Loony Lovergood had tied Harry Potter's hands behind his back, stripped him naked, and gagged his mouth. If Dobby had been any slower, he thought her Crumpled-Horn might pierce Harry's Snorkack.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby bellowed at the blonde girl in the exceptionally small and tight maid's uniform. Loony Lovergood came up for air just in time to catch a face full of house elf magic. She slumped forward right back where her face had been and began to snore.

Harry Potter turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw Dobby there. Harry expressed his gratitude by saying "Mmthpt Phrumbbul Fvoo Fruthbul Blulf!"

Dobby may not have caught all the words through the ball-gag, but the meaning was clear. Dobby smiled before resuming his other duties. His work here was done.

Two weeks passed before Dobby found himself on another rescue mission. A quick search of the castle was all it took for Dobby to discover Harry Potter had been locked into the Room of Requirement. Dobby knew he had to act quickly. Popping straight into the room, Dobby was shocked to find Harry Potter had been handcuffed to a bed! Miss Hermaninny Ganger had a look of pure wanton evil on her face, not to mention the whip in her right hand and paddle in her left.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby screamed his elf power mantra. Hermaninny had no time to react before she was launched through the air and into the wall.

Harry Potter had an extremely grateful look on his face. Truth be told, Dobby thought Harry Potter looked a little saddened and resigned to his fate. But Dobby knew Harry Potter had just been through a traumatic experience and would undoubtedly be grateful later. Dobby was about to leave when he spotted something tucked in the back corner of the room.

"Winky! What are you doing here?"

Winky burst into tears. "Miss Ganger told Winky to work the camera! Winky didn't want to do it. It was awful. Miss Ganger was paddling Great Wizard Harry Potter's bottom and he was crying! Winky could do nothing." Dobby put a comforting arm around the poor sobbing little elf's shoulders. They walked out of the Room of Requirement to do a little good old fashioned house elf work. After all, nothing cleanses the soul like pine-scented bleach.

Dobby was beginning to get worried. It had been almost a month since he last was needed to protect Harry Potter. And Dobby could tell Harry Potter was getting frustrated. Problem was Dobby knew that when Harry Potter was frustrated, he was opening himself up to surprise attacks.

Just as Dobby feared, the very next day evil once again reared its ugly head. Miss Handsy Abbott and Miss Susie Bonesers had been laying in wait for the conclusion of a DA meeting. After everyone else had gone back to their common rooms, the dangerous Hufflepuffs sealed Harry Potter in the room and attacked him with fervor. The two villainous witches tackled Harry to the ground. Susie Bonesers was sitting on Harry's legs preventing him from escaping on foot. And when Dobby kicked down the door Handsy Abbott was in the process of suffocating Harry Potter with her ample bosom.

Dobby could tell Harry's breathing was not normal at all.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby emphatically announced. Susie Bonesers and Handsy Abbott floated up in the air before their head collided with a loud conk sound and they fell to the ground, freed from the waking world.

Dobby realized he'd been just in time because as soon as he was safe, Harry Potter burst into tears. Poor Harry Potter cried and cried. Dobby didn't think Harry Potter would ever get to be a normal wizard.

Dobby went back to his temporarily abandoned house elf duties, cursing all these evil witches. He couldn't understand why so many people wanted to torment his honorary Master. Harry Potter was a great, magnificent, wonderful wizard. And it was beginning to seem to Dobby as if Harry Potter's life was in even more danger since He-Who-Made-Up-A-French-Name-And-That-Shouldn't-Scare-Anyone was no longer around.

A mere single week later the forces against Harry Potter tried again. Harry Potter had been minding his own business when he was forced into a dungeon. Dobby sensed the danger immediately. Dobby sprinted to the dungeon where Harry Potter was being held hostage and found three horribly evil Slytherins on their knees in some unidentifiable dark ritual. Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy Parkinson had all removed their clothing and appeared to be channeling evil magic through Harry Potter's toes, neck, and right earlobe.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby said with the usual firm convictions, and the three evildoers were slammed into the corner unconscious.

Harry Potter started to laugh a very sad, hopeless sounding laugh. "Why, Dobby? Why?"

"Dobby does not understand evil, great wizard Harry Potter. But have no fear, Dobby will protect you!" A snap of house elf fingers and Dobby was gone.

Dobby was shocked when just a few hours later he again felt the call of distress from Harry Potter. He scurried up to the Head Boy's room and burst in, yelling "You shall not harm-… err, Harry Potter? Why are you harming yourself?"

"Why, Dobby?" Harry Potter repeated incredulously. "Why? Because I cannot take this anymore! I feel like I'm going to burst! And no one is going to be able to help me!" He was obviously quite frustrated.

Dobby's lips curled into a smile of understanding. He knew that look on Harry Potter's face. He'd seen it on his old Master's face many times. "Dobby will help you, Harry Potter. Dobby is a good house elf."

"That's not what I mean, Dobby. I… umm, Dobby?" Harry looked on curiously confused at the approaching and wildly grinning elf. "Err... Dobby what are you do- Oh. _Oh... my_. D- D- Dobby."

And ever since that moment Dobby knew there would never be a house elf as happy nor as proud as Dobby.

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**THE END**

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_**Author's Note**: Written in early-mid 2005. Deleted in early 2006. Cleaned up and reposted in late 2008.  
_


	2. The Empire of Earth

_**Author's Note**: This one's kind of an odd duck. It's a complete Harry Potter one-shot but the idea was conceived after watching some West Wing reruns crossed with some way out there apocalyptic terrorist brainstorming. It was only semi-recently that the storyline morphed itself into JKR's universe._

_This has been posted at PatronusCharm and my yahoogroup since June. _

**SUMMARY: **_COMPLETE. One-Shot. Harry has been doing all he can to counter Voldemort for over a decade. He's been fighting so long, he sometimes forgets there's more to the world. A sudden secret meeting with the President of the United States will open his eyes. This is a lot of politics with a dash of sci-fi._

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**

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THE EMPIRE OF EARTH  
**

Harry Potter was fidgeting. He wasn't a fan of formalities and any situation that required him to wear a muggle suit usually meant formalities. He was standing and waiting for a meeting which he knew almost nothing about with a very powerful person whom he'd never met.

The fact that the man was a muggle didn't concern Harry. After all, he'd met the Queen and the Prime Minister. Perfectly nice people, but still two meetings that gave birth to Harry's reticence for formalities.

He looked towards the office he was waiting to be called into and had to admit the curved walls certainly made it stand out.

He looked over towards the other man waiting with him who looked completely at ease.

The United States Secretary of Magic John Colbert saw Harry tugging at his collar. "Relax, Harry."

"Relax?" Harry repeated doubtfully. "Voldemort and all the known Death Eaters have completely disappeared off the grid. It sounds like the muggle world is in even worse chaos. And you show up telling me it's imperative that I secretly meet with the president of the United States in the middle of the night. Why exactly should I relax?"

John Colbert glanced at his watch and shrugged. "Because whatever you think this is about, you're wrong."

That assurance didn't help Harry relax any. "Shouldn't there be secret service agents around here or something?"

"Are you planning to attack the president?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry just gave him an irritated glare as he scratched the back of his neck. "It's this itchy monkey suit."

"In case you haven't noticed the wards around here negate just about all forms of magic. You should get yourself a nice suit that feels comfortable."

"I have a nice suit."

"One that's not charmed and can pass through high security anti-magic wards," John chided. He was about to continue when the door to the oval office opened. "We're up."

He led Harry into the room and proclaimed, "Mr. President? This is Harry Potter."

"Mr. Potter," the president said walking up to meet him halfway. "I'm Courtney Alexander. This is my chief of staff, Sandy Harrison."

Harry shook the offered hands and greeted them in order. "Mr. President. Ms. Harrison."

"Please, have a seat," the president said waving towards the couch.

Harry sat down next to John while Sandy and the president settled into the couch facing them.

The president was clasping his hands together. "I apologize that we had to drag you out here on such short notice but we're in a bit of a crunch. And it's time you got brought into the loop on a number of events and plans."

"You know I'm not an official representative of any branch of the government," Harry replied. "So if you're planning a coup and want me to-"

"Harry! Harry," John interrupted with a chuckle. "Remember when I told you, you had no idea what this is about? Just listen for a minute."

"Okay," Harry agreed, sitting back unable to look as casual and comfortable as the other three people in the room.

"You can speak freely of the magical world," John said, hoping Harry would relax. "The only secrets you need to keep are those you prefer to."

"Understood," Harry said with a curt nod.

"There are a number of things we need to discuss," the president said unsure where to begin. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you, sir. I'm fine," Harry answered while Sandy poured a few glasses of brandy from a decanter. He saw they were patiently watching him. "I'll be honest, Mr. President. I was unaware Voldemort's influence had reached this side of Atlantic."

"Voldemort?" the president repeated looking towards his secretary of magic.

"The Dark Lord in Europe," John explained.

"Ahh," the president said with a nod. "Not to worry, Harry--may I call you Harry?"

"Yes sir."

"This isn't about Voldemort, Harry. In fact, I'm fairly confident in saying that Voldemort may not pose any further problems for you."

"Really?"

John nodded and glanced at the top sheet of his file. "Intel's going to be sketchy but he and all those fanatically loyal to him appear to be gone."

Harry looked at John in surprise at the thought of Voldemort going out without even a whimper. He noticed the other sadly smiling and knowing faces. "Forgive me for being blunt sir, but why am I here?"

Sandy chuckled and looked at John. "You weren't kidding when you said he wasn't a politician."

"Precisely why he's perfect for the job," John happily agreed.

"Job?" Harry asked.

John raised a warning hand. "We're getting way ahead of ourselves. Just listen."

Harry nodded and gave the president his full attention again.

The president sipped at his drink. "This is part of a much larger project that's been in development for thirty years, but first, are you familiar with the war on terror?"

Harry hid his surprise at the length of time involved in whatever covert operation this was. "Broad generalizations only, sir. I have no doubt Voldemort and his Death Eaters are the very model of a terrorist group."

"Well, since I hope we can all be blunt, I should tell you that we dealt arguably the final blow in the war on terror. But it's only the first step of a larger campaign."

"A larger campaign? Is America going to war?" The lack of a quick denial told Harry all he needed to know.

The president sipped his drink. "I'm not talking about World War III, Harry. I'm talking about the final World War."

Harry opened his mouth and saw the other three people in the room all looking at him expectantly. "On second thought, I will take that drink."

John got up to pour Harry a drink while the president explained, "Thirty-six hours ago, the United States magical government and the Chinese magical government working in conjunction with several other global powers completed a ritual that's been in process since 9/11."

The secretary of magic handed a glass of brandy to Harry. "Six hundred sixty-six willing wizards and witches sacrificed themselves to initiate the spell."

Harry took the glass in shock. "Six hundred sixty-six people's life forces all powered a single spell?"

"No," John replied as he settled back into place on the couch. "It took that many to initiate the spell. The power for it came from the Earth or the very magic of creation, depending on your interpretation."

"To what end?" Harry asked incredulously.

"To end terrorism," the female chief of staff solemnly answered.

Harry frowned in confusion. "How can terrorism end?"

John took over the magical explanation. "The spell tapped into the magic of life, Gaia, mother Earth, whatever you want to call it. And it sought out those who presented a threat to existence."

"What the hell constitutes a threat to existence?" Harry demanded, temporarily forgetting just who he was talking to.

"The targets were debated over by some of the brightest minds in the world for many months." The president waved to John. "You can probably explain it better to him."

"Before you get the wrong idea," John stated. "No targets were chosen, no specific individuals or groups. Every person on the planet was subject to the spell. But it only affected those that fell within the spell's parameters."

"You used living runes?" Harry questioned.

"Yes," John said. "Among a great many other things, some of which go beyond my understanding. But it wiped from existence all extremists who posed a threat to life itself."

"How are you even still here, then?" Harry said. "If you're willing to target everyone on the planet with a killing spell, I mean…"

"I'm not explaining this well," John said with a small frown. "Are you familiar with the statistical concept of deviation?"

Harry nodded. "I think so."

"Perfect," John said trying again. "Because the middle safe zone, those protected from the effects of the spell, is the people who believe in tolerance and pluralism, those willing to coexist with others and other forms of life."

Harry was slowly nodding.

Sandy saw his hesitancy and added, "Pluralism crudely defined, is a freedom to believe whatever you want. My belief in God has no effect or standing on whether you believe in God or not. Two different equally acceptable answers to the same question."

"Exactly," John agreed. "So it's not like the spell said Death Eaters were bad and the people hating and killing Death Eaters were good."

"I've hated and killed Death Eaters," Harry said. "I'm not exactly proud of that, but it remains true."

"That's different," John said. "It's more like if you used violence, murder, and terror to push muggleborn rights in the same manner that Death Eaters use them to push pureblood supremacy, then you probably wouldn't be here today."

"So you targeted methods not ideologies?"

"Yes," John agreed heartily.

"Why didn't you just say that?" Harry said taking a little solace in John's growl of frustration. "I still don't understand how you're all still here."

Sandy knocked back the rest of her drink and mumbled, "We do need a new vice president."

"As I understand it," the president said, "you have taken a life when you had no other reasonable recourse, correct?"

Harry nodded.

"This decision was made through consensus by a group of many nations' leaders acting in what they believed to be the next logical step. Rather than one person taking another's life it was many people taking a fraction of a percent of the world's population."

"How many?"

"Early estimates put it around 0.4 percent," Sandy supplied. "Or in the neighborhood of twenty-five million people."

"You…" Harry gaped unable to find words.

"It's genocide on a scale not seen since the plague," the president added.

The room was smothered in an oppressive silence as they all waited for Harry to process what he had been told.

Harry saw none of the kind, smiling faces they'd been wearing earlier. He could tell they weren't joking with him and the grave faces said they weren't proud of it either. "Why?"

The president continued. "The proliferation of nuclear weapons has put the human race, every species and form of life, even the entire planet in mortal peril. The end of civilization is a threat we can no longer ignore."

"So you kill everyone who opposes you?" Harry snapped. "This is… nutty."

"That we can agree on," Sandy chimed in.

"It's done," the president announced with finality. "We can debate it until the end of time, but it's not going back in the box. We're now on the brink of the biggest step forward in human history. And yes, the cost is that it is on the heels of our most horrible act."

"But twenty-five million?" Harry said. "How can you possibly be this blasé?"

"We didn't know how many it would affect," Sandy said. "It was unlikely but possible that the spell could have removed no one else or everyone else."

"You could have wiped us all out," Harry shouted. "How can you claim it judged you not a threat to end civilization?"

"Three thousand people are aboard a cloaked top secret Chinese space station orbiting the planet," the president explained. "People from all different walks of life and culture are there. And the vast majority has no idea why. If we all had died, they would have started over.

"The entire team of those who coined the idea and created the spell, they were all a part of the ritual to initiate it. With their death went the exact knowledge of how it was done and within a generation, the knowledge that it even happened will be removed as well.

"It is our hope that no one will ever find out why twenty-five million people disappeared overnight."

Harry had gotten up and poured himself more brandy. He had his back to them as he asked, "So why are you telling me? And why now?"

"We're on the brink of a new world order," the president answered. "The end result of the final World War will be for the first time, a unified planet under a single centralized democratic government."

"This isn't just the United States," Sandy said. "The Chinese have been in it from the start. Together with the Russians they're going to handle most of Asia. The Indians are assisting friendly elements of the Pakistanis. Most of the European Union is on board and the biggest roadblocks in the Middle East all appear to have disappeared."

"Africa was hit pretty hard," John said. "But it's probably more stable than it's been since colonization."

Harry walked back to the couch and sat back down. "My understanding of world politics is pretty limited, but the Chinese have been in it from the start?"

Sandy smiled wanly. "The magical government in exile was our first point of contact. They've broken more than a few international laws but the people we trusted controlled the others until the spell sorted out the lot of them. They're maintaining appearances for now."

"Maintaining appearances," Harry repeated, catching the meaning and uncertain what to make of it. "It sounds an awful lot like you're conquering the world."

"We prefer to think of it as every industrialized nation coming together to form a singular governing body that'll colonize all the third world countries, but basically… yes. We're conquering the world."

"There are fewer unassailable rights and freedoms than we'd like," the president replied. "But pluralism the world over is the ironically, the singularity that will be enforced. Cultures and nations will still exist independently, just not quite as independently as before."

"Your 'United Kingdom' just got a whole lot bigger," John said.

"It's not going to happen overnight," Sandy explained. "We may have removed the most extreme and dangerous, but that just means we have a new measure of who the most extreme and dangerous are. It's unfortunately inevitable that some resistance will detonate a nuclear device somewhere. When it happens, the world will have its mandate. And everyone else will fall in line."

Harry closed his eyes as he felt a headache forming. Picturing the aftermath of the final World War kept triggering his nervousness and paranoia of Voldemort's next attack. "Will we ever get to why you're telling me this?"

"The magical governments are even trickier than the muggle ones," John explained. "The Statute of Secrecy will be maintained initially, but there are going to be discussions about its continued practicality. Until the day comes to revoke it, we need to establish a centralized democratic magical government."

Harry sighed. "And somehow you thought I'd be your poster boy?"

"Not poster boy," the president corrected. "We want you to be the first magical president of Earth."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Until the war is over and the government is stabilized, we won't be able to hold the worldwide elections," Sandy explained. "It's been decided that President Alexander will serve as the first president of Earth. We discussed it with many magical Ministers and if you're willing, you are going to be the first magical president of Earth."

Harry turned to John. "Are they drunk?"

"Even if I were drunk, Harry," the president smiled wanly. "I can still hear just fine. As the American president, I'm already often regarded as the leader of the free world. But the magical world doesn't have so clear cut an option."

John continued. "Twenty years ago, it would have been Albus Dumbledore, without question. And while you've been regarded as his successor in many ways, you've rarely ventured into the political arena."

"Which in this instance," Sandy added, "works out even better. We need a strong powerful figure, one who leads people and soldiers. Not a politician who wins favor through charm and guile."

John nodded. "You are arguably the most prominent wizard in the world. Power in the magical world is physically manifested and I know for a fact, you have it in spades. You've got youth, vitality, the poster boy image, your duel with Voldemort in downtown London is the stuff of legend, and the fact that you're not American plays in both our favors. Every European nation supports your nomination."

Harry saw John smiling at him. "This is getting ridiculous."

"I suspect you've already figured out the why," the president said. "But let's be honest; you've been kept in the dark until after the spell was finished because there were concerns you might not survive it."

John added, "There were also those who believed that if you'd set your mind to opposing it, you could single-handedly reverse the consensus decision and prevent the spell from ever happening."

Harry let out a dark laugh. "I think you're overestimating me."

"How many other wizards do you think could hold their ground against Voldemort?" John reminded. "And don't forget, he's gone now."

Harry opened his mouth before closing it. He saw they were all looking at him. "This is a lot to take in."

"We don't need an answer this moment," Sandy assured him. "Think it over."

Harry shrugged as he stood up. "I haven't said no yet."

"Ah Harry," John asked. "You need a bathroom break or something?"

"Listen," Harry said. "I'm still trying to reconcile the idea that the man who murdered my parents, tried to kill me more times than I can count, and terrorized the European wizarding world for decades disappeared in the night, possibly never to return. Then you invite me to the big kids' table at the new global conspiracy that's kicking things off with a body count Hitler would be proud of. And finally you ask me to be the first president of magic for the entire world. Is there really more I need to know before I think these things through?"

"Yes," the president succinctly answered. John and Sandy were both nodding silently in support of the president.

Harry winced. "Bugger."

"9/11 only helped push the time table up and inspired some of the foremost minds to devising what we keep trying not to call a purging of humanity," the president explained. "But this is part of a larger scheme that's been one of the best kept secrets of the last thirty years."

Harry sat back, looking every bit the intimidating powerful wizard he was. "I'm listening."

Sandy continued, "Twenty-seven years ago Major Tom Taylor was approached by an ambassador."

Harry felt the pregnant pause and tiredly asked, "An ambassador to where?"

"It's hard to say," Sandy answered. "But we know it's not from this solar system."

Harry looked at all three of them and saw poorly hidden grins. "Excuse me?"

The president announced, "Major Tom Taylor was the mission commander on one of the Department of Defense's top secret space shuttles. An extraterrestrial made contact with a simple request that was impossible to answer."

"Uh-huh," Harry said unsure if he was humoring them or just confused.

"Take me to your leader," the president said. "That posed the question for which there has never been an answer."

"Aren't you the leader?" Harry skeptically said.

John shook his head and answered for the president. "He didn't want the leader of a nation but the chosen representative for the planet."

"There are countless other life forms in the universe," Sandy explained. "For all that life has evolved on this planet, we have never been unified under a single rule, a formal government to which all nations belonged and who could exercise control over rogue states."

The president sighed. "The race to space in the sixties was just barely about discovery at all. The unfortunate truth is that it was the Cold War and it was a race to weaponize the skies. We've flown to outer space, walked on the moon, and we're told that we're the first life form to manage that without ever having a clear planetary ruling body."

John was looking at his file and read aloud, "We all started as families. Families led into tribes. Tribes combined to form cities, states, territories, and nations. It is the evolution of man to unify as a planet, and begin to learn about the nature of the universe beyond the fraction we've managed to pioneer."

"We are on the precipice of the next leap forward," Sandy softly argued. "There are so many things we could learn about life, creation, souls, God, technology beyond our imaginations, the questions that could be answered, the beliefs that could shatter if we just got a seat at the intergalactic assembly."

The president nodded. "Make no mistake, the seat is there and waiting for us. It's just a matter of us being ready to sit at the table. For all we know there may never be another energy crisis, there may never again be a starving child, or an illness that can't be treated. But as long as we are citizens of separate warring nations first and not simply citizens of the planet Earth, we will continue miring in our own insular existence."

Harry closed his eyes unable to stop the oncoming headache.

Sandy continued softly, "The ambassador has contacted us four separate times. There is a place for Earth as soon as we can take it. He's offered us a ship to get there until we develop our own form of intergalactic travel. The technology of the ship is their gift and it will be ours to unravel. From what little we know, even our magical think tanks are chomping at the bit. This could uncover fundamental truths about the nature of not just life but magic too. Things never before imagined."

"Between the two leaders of the planet," the president explained. "It's been decided that it should be the magical president who is the intergalactic representative for Earth, as wizards are physically capable of everything muggles are and so much more."

"Should you agree to become the magical president of Earth," John was genuinely smiling now. "It will carry with it another title for all extraterrestrial relations."

Harry looked up at them all and sighed. "Do I even want to…"

"Emperor of Earth," Sandy answered.

"Okay," Harry said standing up again. "My brain is full. I need some time. If you'll excuse me."

Harry's body disappeared with a quick little zipping sound followed by a loud echoing boom.

The president blinked and looked towards his chief of staff and secretary of magic. "I thought the White House was warded against apparition."

John shrugged. "Harry's developed his own form. He self-transfigures into air and then moves faster than the speed of sound. Typically, he muffles the sonic boom."

"I think we can excuse him for having a few things on his mind," the president commented.

"Does he know he can't talk to anyone about this?" Sandy asked worriedly.

John nodded. "He'll probably talk to his friends after binding them with oaths. He knows what he's doing."

The president got another drink. "Do you think he's going to accept?"

"Yeah," John said with certainty. "For the same reason he always fought Voldemort."

"Why's that?"

John accepted the refilled glass and took a sip. "Because there's no one else who could do it even half as good as him."

* * *

Harry streamed through the muggle lock on his front door and reassumed his untransfigured form. He walked over towards the den and was pleased to see his roommate was home. "Hey Luna?"

Luna looked up from the book she was reading. "Yes?"

Harry plopped down into his recliner. "You remember a couple years ago when you tried to read my tea leaves?"

Luna nodded.

"How I said I thought it looked like a cheeseburger? And you said that you thought it looked like…" Harry prompted and waited.

Luna was reaching off for a distant memory and answered, "like you were wearing a blue and green fusion of auror battle robes and a muggle suit because you had a diplomatic mission to meet with the aliens and you accidentally entered yourself into a deadly combat tournament with seven other warrior species all for the prize of an alliance with a super technologically advanced race of submissive alien sex kittens?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded eagerly.

"I vaguely recall that," Luna coyly said as she looked back down at her book.

"Luna?"

She was blushing and avoiding Harry's eyes. "Mmm-hmm?"

"Luna," Harry chided. "How did you know the outfit was blue and green? The tea leaves were just brown muck."

"Lucky guess?" she idly answered.

"Luna," Harry said more forcefully.

Luna turned another page and pouted. "Our personal pet sex kitten from the future intra-orbed me."

Harry quickly thought over everything he'd learned tonight. "I… I can live with that."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *


	3. The Crossover Drabble Cooperation

_**Author's Note**: Standard crossover setup of two worlds crossing paths. The Middleman is a highly entertaining ABC-Family show that's uncertain whether it'll have a second season. I think sales of the season one dvd (if it ever comes out) will be the deciding factor. Pop culture filled, campy, very fun show. I had a small bunny on crossing Harry Potter over with The Middleman and after a yahoogroup inquiry I got inspired to knocking this out in a few hours.  
_

_This has been posted at PatronusCharm and my yahoogroup for a few weeks now. _

**SUMMARY: **_The Middleman (based on a comic book and ABC Family tv show) crosses paths with Harry Potter. Somewhere in between a drabble and a one-shot, this fic is nonjon's attempt to spread the Middle-word._

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; Harry Potter and the elements of his universe all belong to J. K. Rowling. The Middleman and the elements of his universe all belong to Javier Grillo-Marxuach. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**THE CROSSOVER DRABBLE COOPERATION**

THE MIDDLE HEADQUARTERS  
7:46 AM

"I need coffee."

Ida lifted her head out of a bowl filled with strangely glowing liquid. "You need to lay off the doobie is what you need."

Wendy Watson had to look away from the unnaturally bright fluid dripping off the android's face and glasses. "I need coffee before I can deal with you."

The Middleman wiped clean his upper lip with a closed fist and a smile. "Nothing like wrapping your hand around a big frothy glass of fresh squirt."

Wendy saw how alert and awake her boss was and tried again. "I need coffee _now_."

"Dubby," the Middleman began to lecture. "Your body's physiological and psychological reliance on caffeine is a-"

"_Now_," Wendy Watson pleaded.

"You know if you hadn't gone for Interrodroid 4000's soft tissue or more accurately where a human male's soft-"

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm not about to forget cleaning up the melted coffeemaker last night."

"Then let this be a lesson in-"

"Oh –BLEEP- your lesson."

"Dubby!" The Middleman exclaimed aghast. He softened as he saw his tired young apprentice drop her head into her arms on the table. "Tell you what. Since there aren't any life-threatening emergencies right now, why don't we have a pop quiz on the proper Middle-etiquette to surprise visits by intergalactic royalty?"

Wendy looked up at the Middleman in anguished disbelief.

The Middleman saw her look and added, "And we can do it at the coffee shop."

A sincere and genuine smile of hope blossomed over Wendy's face. "Really?"

The smile only lasted a second before sirens began blaring and flashing lights dropped from the ceiling.

"Uh-oh," Ida announced abandoning her neon soup.

"Tough luck, Dubby," the Middleman empathized. "Looks like the HEYDARs picked up a life-threatening emergency."

"Son of a –BLEEP-! You gotta be –BLEEP- kidding me!"

Ida was standing in front a big silver ball. "You're going to need the BTRS Scanner."

"This is a Beyond the Realm of Science life-threatening emergency?" Wendy clarified.

Ida confirmed, "HEYDAR says it's… _magical _in nature."

"Magical? Are we talking like 'cursed tuba' magical or 'earth elemental warrior' magical?"

"Well, it ain't a carpet ride, you lazy hippie," Ida retorted without looking away from the HEYDAR. "Looks like a rogue Hungarian Horntail racing across the Atlantic. You got less than ten minutes before it reaches the coast."

"Great green gobs!" The Middleman exclaimed. "A horntail? All the way over here?"

"What's a horntail?"

"We need the fireproof Middle-suits, Dubby," the Middleman concluded. "Because a horntail… is a dragon."

"Dragon?" Wendy's eyes perked up. "Like fire-breathing, flesh-eating, angry giant flying lizard, _dragon _dragon?"

"Exactly," the Middleman nodded solemnly. "And Hungarian Horntails are some of the fiercest, most dangerous dragons in the world."

Wendy's face split into a goofy smile. "Cool."

* * *

THE NEARBY DOCKS  
Approximately five minutes later.

The Middleman woke the sleeping man and flashed a badge. "Agent Picard of the Department of Enterprise Security. I'm sorry sir but you need to vacate the premises immediately."

The vagrant was slowly sitting up from his bench. "Huh?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and took in the Middleman's appearance. "You know you kinda look like-"

"Beat it!" Wendy yelled at the man in irritation.

He let out a yelp as he ran down the emptied dock and away from the two scary people in extremely shiny suits.

The Middleman looked over at his apprentice with a frown. "Dubby, you know screaming as loud as you can is not always the best way to avoid panic."

Her brilliantly reflective suit crinkled as she turned to look at her boss. "I still don't have coffee."

"Fair enough," the Middleman agreed.

"And since when do the fireproof Middle-suits look like the lovechild of the Michelin Man and a Hershey's kiss?"

The Middleman glanced at his foil covered arm. "You're thinking of the flame retardant Middle-suits. Those are only capable of withstanding a few thousand degrees of heat. I can assure you, dragon fire would roast us like a couple of prairie dogs in a tail pipe if we only had the flame retardant suits."

"Incoming," Wendy announced pointing an arm towards a speck on the horizon. "So how do we slay the dragon?"

"We're not slaying anything unless we have to," the Middleman insisted. "Dragons are generally intelligent creatures. First we need to determine what it's doing, and if it attacks unprovoked then we're going to try and stun it."

"And I'm guessing that looking like background extras from a Michael Jackson video won't be enough?"

The Middleman lifted up a gun Wendy had never seen. "I'm setting the Middle-phaser to stun."

"Of course you are," Wendy agreed with a roll of her eyes.

"One other thing," the Middleman added as he saw the dragon clearly was now only seconds away. "Dragon hide's impervious to just about everything short of anti-aircraft weapons. The eyes are the only place the Middle-phaser will even phase."

The massive beast let out a loud screech and swooped straight towards them both.

The Middleman and Wendy both dove away from each other as it's claws passed through the empty air between them.

"I think it's attacking unprovoked," Wendy shouted as she began to run down the pier.

"Quite right, Dubby," the Middleman agreed as he aimed at the dragon. He lined up a shot towards its eyes and fired.

The beam was headed straight for the beast's eyes when it swung a wing up in the way and the shot splashed harmlessly against its hide.

The Middleman had time to duck to the ground and avoid the swooping dragon while Wendy turned to run away down the pier. She saw the dragon still coming for her and she was about to run out of pier.

Another angry loud screech let Wendy know it was right behind her and she shouldn't slow down.

"Any ideas, boss?" she shouted just before her entire line of sight was overcome by blistering hot flames. She fell down as the concrete beneath her feet began to melt and stick to the fireproof Middle-suit. All of the wooden railings on the pier were reduced to ash and smoldering timber in mere seconds.

Wendy's hands were stuck to the malleable concrete and she looked over her shoulder to see the dragon had landed just fifteen feet behind her. It was slowly stalking towards her.

"A little help, please?" Wendy pleaded loudly.

"STOP!" shouted a commanding voice from just in front of her.

She whipped her head forward and saw a young man dressed in a uniform unlike any she'd seen before. It was mixture of blacks and greys and hung behind him like a trench coat.

She looked back over her shoulder and saw the dragon had stopped its advances and looked far less angry.

"SIT!" the man firmly ordered.

Wendy just blinked when the dragon plopped backwards onto its haunches and hung its head in shame.

"Be good," the man instructed gently as he approached Wendy's prone position.

She smiled goofily when he squatted down and asked, "You okay?"

"Peachy," she replied. "And you?"

A loud grumble sounded and the man shot back up, "Heathcliff, _NO_!"

The Middleman had been trying to make his way around the calmed dragon when it started to growl and shoot steam out its nose in anger. He was relieved when the stranger scolded the beast again.

Heathcliff the Hungarian Horntail dragon flattened his body down on the ground and placed both of his wings across his nose in deference.

"Heathcliff will be good," the man offered. "He knows he's in trouble and doesn't want to make it worse."

The dragon let out a petulant sound of agreement. The Middleman took that as his invitation to carefully walk around the dragon towards his glued down apprentice.

Wendy was beginning to feel embarrassed at her position, particularly as she realized she'd been staring at the young man's currently eye-level crotch.

"Dubby, are you alright?" was the Middleman's first question.

The young man happily answered for her, "She says she's peachy, but personally I think you look more like baked potatoes."

Heathcliff the dragon snickered as quietly as an amused dragon can snicker.

"Someone want to get me out of this suit?" Wendy pleaded, looking up at the two men.

The Middleman looked over at the temporarily peaceful dragon and the unidentified man. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Heathcliff won't hurt you. And even if he wanted to, I can shield us from his bad breath."

"I take it you're a wizard," the Middleman carefully offered.

"Harry Potter, British Department of Mysteries," the man introduced. "And I'm beginning to think you're not wizards."

"No," the Middleman agreed with a touch of careful skepticism. "Neither of us is magical. And I was under the impression wizards couldn't so easily command obedience from dragons."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not your average wizard. And who are you? I don't even know any wizards with suits capable of withstanding dragon fire."

"Ah," the Middleman paused before whipping out the badge he'd been using. "Agent Picard of the Department of Enterprise Security."

Harry frowned and summoned the badge straight from the man's hand. "I'm not familiar with that department," he suspiciously replied as he inspected the credentials.

"I'm still stuck here," Wendy complained, getting a crick in her neck as she tried to look away from Harry's crotch.

"Ah, sorry Dubby," the Middleman apologized as he bent down to release her helmet and allow her some fresh air.

With her arms free, Wendy unzipped the rest of her fireproof Middle-suit and climbed out of it to her feet. She saw the wizard named Harry was smiling at her and said, "Hi."

He thought her outfit looked oddly out of place until he spotted Agent Picard climbing out of his suit.

"Bloody hell," Harry said finally connecting the dots. "You're the Middleman."

The Middleman looked up in surprise. "You've heard of me? I didn't know wizards were aware of our organization."

Harry happily handed back the false credentials and explained. "They're not. It's just my master met a Middleman a while back and he's been trying to make sure I'm ready for anything and anyone."

"Really," the Middleman said in surprise. "I didn't think any Middlemen had directly crossed paths with the wizarding world in centuries."

"Might not have," Harry said scratching his head. "This was probably… sixteenth century, maybe?"

"Sixteenth century?" Wendy repeated dubiously.

"Nick's really old," Harry offered before clarifying, "my master."

"Uh-huh," Wendy agreed.

"He created a little rock that keeps him around," Harry explained. "I call it the pebble of youth."

The Middleman finally connected the dots, "Nicholas Flamel, the alchemist?"

Harry groaned. "It's just going to go to his head that you know who he is."

"He's still alive?" the Middleman repeated incredulously.

"Pebble of youth? Come on Middleman, keep up," Harry chided.

Wendy smiled at the Middleman's brief look of embarrassment. "So is it your job to chase down wayward dragons?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dubby, is it?"

"Wendy, please," she corrected.

"No Wendy," Harry answered. "I was just offering credentials for my less than authorized appearance into your country. And it's not my job. Heathcliff here was raised by a friend of mine and he asked me to help him track him down."

The dragon made a purring request when Harry looked towards him.

Harry looked at the dragon seriously. "Are you going to behave?"

Heathcliff lifted his head and nodded.

Harry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a golden goblet. "Whoops, that's not it." He shoved his hand into another pocket and pulled out a sticky red substance. "Dammit. That's going to stain." He went searching into one more pocket and said, "Ah-ha."

His hand emerged wrapped around a half empty bag of marshmallows.

Heathcliff's head was perked all the way up and his tongue was lolling out the side.

Harry pulled out a single marshmallow and enlarged it to the size of a basketball. He tossed in a high arc through the air and the dragon leapt up and caught fluffy white treat in his jaws.

Heathcliff turned his head to side and let loose a quick blast of flame, instantly blackening the marshmallow trapped in his teeth. He then proceeded to settle back down and happily chew up his gooey marshmallow mess.

Wendy and the Middleman looked at Harry curiously as he shoved the bag of marshmallows back into a pocket. "It's how Hagrid raised him. Don't ask."

"Right," the Middleman said in acceptance. "There still is the matter of-"

Harry caught on and turned to the dragon. "Heathcliff?"

The dragon looked up revealing a maw filled with blackened edges and white sticky goo.

"Are you going to go home now or am I going to have to take you home?"

Without missing a beat, the dragon launched itself into the air and began to fly back across the ocean.

"See?" Harry said with a smile. "No need to contact the authorities or get my friend in trouble, right?"

The Middleman looked around the charred dock and winced. "Well, there…" He trailed off as Harry had drawn his wand and was waving it in all directions. Everything that had been damaged or even destroyed was fixing itself before their very eyes. The fireproof Middle-suit even floated up into the air while the lumpy misshapen concrete smoothed beneath their feet.

Wendy looked up seriously impressed. "Okay that was cool."

The Middleman looked towards the town and commented, "Crowds are starting to form. We should probably go."

"Good point," Harry agreed.

"Well it was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Potter," the Middleman announced offering his hand to shake.

"You as well, Mr. Man," Harry cheekily replied in an equally professional voice. "Wendy," he said in a more casual friendly manner. "Could I interest you in a cup of coffee?"

"Oh dear," the Middleman said under his breath.

Wendy just looked at Harry with stars twinkling in her eyes. "I think I love you."

"Well then," Harry said with a nod as he escorted Wendy down the pier. "I heard Americans were easy but I had no idea."

The Middleman watched his apprentice walking away from him and reminded, "Just keep on your Middle-watch and I'll call if… there's… an emergency."

He was feeling sufficiently ditched as he gathered up both fireproof Middle-suits and walked towards the Middle-mobile. "I wonder if a pop quiz on Middle-etiquette when dealing with surprise visits from intergalactic royalty can count as an emergency."

The Middleman paused before shaking his head and deciding against it. "Not until I figure out a better way to defend the soft tissue."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *


	4. A Super Gift

_**Author's Note**: Here's a short old Smallville one-shot. It's just a little Chloe and Clark friendship humorous fluff piece. You could say it takes place in my "The Incredibly Dense Mind of Lois Lane" fic-verse if you like, as it is in that spirit. It's just completely unrelated to that fic and set many years prior.  
_

_This was posted on my yahoogroup and the Divine Intervention forums back in July 2007.  
_

**SUMMARY: **_COMPLETE. One-Shot. Some gifts are just super..._

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; Smallville and Superman are the property of their respective creators and copyright holders whether they are Warner Brothers, the WB, DC Comics or even Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**A SUPER GIFT  
**

"Chomp."

Chloe groaned but kept walking in step with her friend. "For god's sake, stop saying that."

Clark waggled his half empty ear of corn at her. "I'm just enjoying a tasty afternoon snack." Clark looked both ways again before aiming his heat vision at the next kernel in line. The rapid focused increase in temperature dried the tiny kernel of corn until it reached its breaking point and popped right off the cob.

Clark lunged forward, mouth open, capturing the piece of popcorn while at the same time announcing, "Chomp."

Chloe sighed. "You're saying the word out loud and you really don't have to."

Clark smiled brightly at her, checked both ways, and zapped the next in line. "Chomp."

Chloe knew it was time to break out the big guns. "I'm telling your mother."

Clark frowned and shoved his half finished piece of corn into his pocket. "Fine. I've stopped."

Clark looked down and kicked a rock on the ground. He hadn't been paying much attention and accidentally launched the stone at about sixty miles an hour, embedding it into the tree in front of them.

Chloe saw the whole thing and knew her super-powered friend was acting particularly childish. "You know that's not even the right way to make popcorn. I'd bet whatever you're eating doesn't taste normal."

Clark shrugged and kicked a rock gentler this time. "It's not too bad."

Chloe scoffed lightly, knowing he'd hear it.

"It's better than Lois' cooking."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "There are tyrannical regimes that torture dissidents with things that taste better than Lois' cooking."

Clark grinned victoriously. "I'm telling Lois."

"No, you're not," Chloe stated.

"Okay, I'm not," Clark agreed unable to counter that argument. "But I am still hungry."

"Come on," Chloe said, looping an arm through Clark's and urging him to walk a bit quicker. "There's a pub a couple blocks from here with good sandwiches. Will that appease the pouting childish chomp monster?"

Clark nodded eagerly, picking up his pace before frowning in cognition. "I don't pout," he pouted.

"Of course you don't," Chloe said while patronizingly patting his arm.

"I don't," he pouted again.

The two were only the third table of customers in the pub, in addition to the two old men sitting at the bar. There was a television hanging from the ceiling at the front end of the bar showing a basketball game.

Chloe saw Clark was spending more time with his eyes on the television behind her than he was paying attention to their conversation.

Clark took a bite of his sandwich and was glancing up at the basketball game. "Oh come on! How can you call that foul?"

Chloe did not look amused. "And what are we watching?"

"I'm sorry, Chloe," Clark apologized and gestured over her shoulder. "It's just the TV-" Clark stopped suddenly when the television blipped right off.

Chloe looked over her shoulder and saw the television had been turned off, and the man behind the bar was looking for the remote.

Clark's eyes focused as he x-rayed through the bar and located the remote hidden behind the wrapped silverware.

"Are you okay?" Chloe warily asked.

Clark turned back to her and assured her, "I'm fine. It was just the-" Clark had once again gestured towards the television and stopped when it miraculously turned on.

Chloe glanced back up at the television while Clark's posture quickly straightened. He did his best to project feelings of innocence while he glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to him.

Chloe recognized Clark's pitiful attempts to not draw attention. "Should I just give up on the vain hope that you can manage any sort of conversation while the game is on?"

"I'll be good," Clark said focusing on Chloe. "Maybe if I asked, he'd change the channel." The moment right after he said that the channel flipped to the local news.

Clark grabbed his napkin and quickly wiped his mouth. "Why don't we just get on out of here?" He had gotten to his feet and already put down enough money for both his and Chloe's food.

Chloe saw the bartender had located the remote and was banging it against the palm of his hand in confusion. She put her jacket back on and grabbed the rest of her sandwich to follow Clark on out. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Clark smiled happy to get away. "I just thought I was going crazy in there for a second."

They walked past an electronics store with a dozen televisions in the window all aimed outwards.

Chloe stopped and was leaning against the glass looking at the display. "I've been thinking about getting a new…" Chloe trailed off as she looked at the fierce concentration on Clark's face. "Okay what are you doing?"

Clark jerked back suddenly having been caught. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Clark?"

"Seriously," Clark assured. "You'd think I'm crazy. Heck, I think I'm crazy."

Chloe stopped to show she was earnest in her concern. "You know you can talk to me about anything. I might think you're crazy, but I might be able to help."

"It's silly," Clark softly admitted. "For a second there, I thought I could turn the TV off-" Clark nearly jumped when all the televisions in the display turned off. Clark turned to Chloe and pleaded. "I didn't mean to do that." Right when he said it, they all turned back on. "Eep," came jumping out of Clark's mouth before he could stop it.

Chloe was looking from the televisions in the display to Clark and back again. She was clearly impressed. She nodded at him to do it again.

Clark understood Chloe's silent request and slowly pointed a finger towards the televisions in the window. He bent his thumb to mimic a gun firing and just like that, the TV sets went black.

"Oh my god," Chloe gasped looking at Clark.

He was pleading at the televisions, furiously waving his hands and they responded immediately turning back on.

"Let's get out of here," Clark begged, turning to hurry towards Chloe's car.

"It's a new power," Chloe whispered as she had to speed walk to keep up with him. "This is amazing."

"I thought I was almost done with these," Clark whined, grateful to finally have the parked car in sight.

"Here, you drive," Chloe said tossing him her keys, knowing there was a possibility she might collapse cackling in laughter and wreck her car.

"Where are we going?" Clark said catching the keys and moving over to the driver side. "Because I should probably learn to control this before I take out air traffic control on accident."

"We're going to Lois' place. She's got a video camera," Chloe decided knowing she'd need to preserve these moments for posterity.

Clark stopped and leaned on the top of Chloe's car. "A video camera?"

Chloe quickly tried to think up a good answer and claimed, "Well, we need to see just how far your new power extends."

Clark's anxiety lessened for a moment as he began to daydream. "Good point. You know I wouldn't mind messing with Lois' ipod." He mused aloud, "Maybe make it play Whitesnake every time I walk into the room."

Chloe snorted. "Who knows? Maybe you can make the street lights turn green and get us there faster." She opened her car door and sat down in the passenger seat.

"Maybe," Clark said imagining the possibilities as he closed the door and started the car.

Chloe had to turn towards the window as she was tittering in restrained laughter. She already had decided she'd have to apologize to Jimmy and tell him he was right. A ninja keychain remote really is the gift that keeps on giving.

* * *

**THE END**

* * *


	5. A Death Eater Initiation

_**Author's Note**: This is an old Potter's Place 3 scene writing entry. It's pretty average. I think it got second in the voting. I chose to write about a 'death eater initiation' and it's entirely possible that Silence of the Lambs was on the night before.  
_

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**A DEATH EATER INITIATION  
**

Draco Malfoy was crying in his room again.

As usual.

In fairness, this time he did actually have an internal moral dilemma running through his head. It wasn't just his fear of never waking up. He was sixteen years old now and he was facing the same decision every respectable, bigoted, narcissistic, pampered, useless ponce faces upon the sixteenth anniversary of their birth.

_"Have you thought about your future, son?"_

_"Earn money you can use towards wizarding university. Or stronger dungeons."_

_"Be all you can be. An army of one. I want you… to join the Death Eater officer training corps!"_

Would he or wouldn't he? Should he or shouldn't he? Did he want to or not? This wasn't just a simple choice he would get a do-over or a mulligan on. There are no backsies from the Dark Mark. At least none Draco had ever heard of. It'd be really good to know if there were backsies.

Much of the last few years of his life were spent contemplating this issue, weighing the pros and the cons. On the pro side, if he were to become a Death Eater, that meant a life in the lap of luxury, very possibly becoming the Dark Lord's favorite, and undoubtedly setting himself up as the clear front runner within his generation for a future Dark Lordship. That's not to say Draco had any doubts that the Dark Lord could ever be defeated. It's just every once in a while the laws of magic take a hike and a Killing Curse will bounce backwards onto the one who cast it. And all too often at the most inopportune moment.

On the con side of becoming a Death Eater was… well, Draco was still trying to figure that one out. There had to be something bad about it, or else everyone would be clamoring to sign up. There had to be something he was missing. Hell, even the mudbloods are allowed to apply for a spot, but they're still not as important, valuable, powerful, or attractive as the purebloods. His Head of House was a filthy mudblood. And there was the dirty little secret that the Dark Lord was a mudblood. But no one ever wants to talk about that. Draco wondered how long he could bite his tongue before asking the Dark Lord what it felt like to be a mudblood. Did it hurt? Did it tingle? Does your brain actually work slower, assuming it works at all? Draco wasn't stupid. He knew better than to ask those questions now. Nuh-uh. No one lives to ask personal questions unless they've pledged their life and magic to the Dark Lord. Which is just another one on the pro side: getting some answers from the Dark Lord.

For the life of him, Draco couldn't see anything on the con side. Fashionably, the mask is ugly, but inspires fear. The color black is clichéd, but very fitting and goes with just about everything. Draco's own milky white skin shines like alabaster in a nice rich black. And you really even only had to worry about the dress code in those lucky opportunities where you get to remind the little festering sores that are muggles and mudbloods of their proper place in the world. Why would anyone not want to be a part of that?

Admittedly, signing up for this one would quite frequently put Draco in direct opposition of the current mugglelover's laws. But freedom isn't free. One must fight for their right to rape muggle children. Today's criminal is tomorrow's freedom fighter. Tomorrow's revolutionary. Tomorrow's… _hero_.

But even still, there was something holding Draco back. As if there was something big he was missing, and there is a very good reason why Draco should choose not to become a Death Eater.

"Draco!" Lucius called out from the downstairs. "Time for your initiation."

"Coming father!" Draco called out in a higher pitch voice than he felt comfortable with. Draco frowned thinking perhaps it wasn't as much his decision as he initially thought.

Daintily Draco took the last steps down the grand staircase. "Daddy, I've been-"

"Draco," Lucius sighed shaking his head. "Do I have to tell it again?"

"Sorry, father," Draco corrected. "I've been trying to decide whether or not I wish to become a Death Eater."

"_Kaza-tamat-li_!" Lucius called out aiming his wand at his only son. The Dark Arts directed _tugging_ curse caught him across the chest and Draco fell to the floor squirming under its painful effects. Draco used to think he could find pleasure from the spell when his father tortured him with it. Never did figure that one out. It just hurt, but Draco never felt the need to complain when it had the bonus side effect of stretching and elongating the muscles in that particular area. Though Draco might not be so understanding if he knew that when he was three, Lucius had used the spell with a little too much enthusiasm and tore half of the toddler's favorite toy right off. That was also Draco's first memory charm. Narcissa has a picture of it.

Lucius let up on the tugging curse and closed his eyes tiredly. "It has never had a choice. It should not be disappointing father like this."

"Sorry father," Draco said bowing his head.

"It will do better next time."

"Yes father."

"Excellent," Lucius said with a grin of emotion. "Initiation time. Follow me."

Draco jumped into stride by his father and asked, "Where are we going?"

Lucius curled his lip into a sneer, which was his own special way of saying 'I love you, son.' He remarked, "We're going," he drawled out much longer than absolutely necessary, "to our new state-of-the-art initiation facility. We've been massively recruiting, and our Lord just doesn't have time to oversee all the testing and evaluating, so we've streamlined the process to maximize our efficiency."

Draco nodded without a bit of comprehension. He had gotten distracted trying to count the number of three syllable or more words his father had just used.

"Now I have used _my_ influence," Lucius continued as they walked towards the entrance room's floo hook-up, "to have them just skip over the first step. You are a Malfoy, after all."

"What's the first step?" Draco asked curiously.

Lucius waved his hand airily. "That's just where you must go out with two or three sanctioned trainers and kill muggles from the three main age groups of child, adult, and senior. And at least one of the murders has to have sufficient flair to earn a score better than a 62."

"So I don't get to do that?"

Lucius frowned knowing his son would break down like a Snape in June if he were forced to do that. "You will have plenty more opportunities to kill muggles later. I just wish to get you through this initiation as quickly as possible. A Malfoy need not prove himself."

"Oh," Draco said uncertainly. "So I don't have to do any test?"

"Yes well," Lucius frowned. "Apparently there are some things that must be done for everyone. You will have to do all the steps following step one."

"Right, right," Draco nodded. He smirked, "Wouldn't want to show any favoritism, now would we?"

Lucius' eyes widened in fury. "It will never say anything that ignorant again! It will learn. No 'or else.' _It. Will. Learn._"

Draco bowed his head deeply. "Yes father."

Lucius held up a small pouch. "This is black floo powder. It is necessary to get there. Use this anytime you need to go somewhere restricted to only those loyal. We're going to _Uncle Bud's_."

Draco took a pinch of the powder and threw it in the fireplace. He called out, "Uncle Bud's" and hopped through the fire. He arrived and went through the motions of brushing off the dust and soot, in spite of the fact that his robes were already charmed against it. He stood to the side and waited for his father to exit the grate. He glanced around and saw a curious looking man standing behind the counter of what appeared to be an office building.

"Lucius," the unidentified man with thick glasses said. "I'm not so sure this is a good-"

"You will hold your tongue," Lucius roared in sharp display of power. "And remember your place."

The man nodded resigned. "Start him off with Otto."

"Otto?" Lucius asked in confusion.

"The _eye_ exam."

"Of course," Lucius sneered. "You should have just said that. Come along, Draco."

Lucius led Draco down a hall on the left, took a right, and then another left before opening the door they reached. Lucius held the door for Draco and then closed it behind them. Lucius cleared his throat loudly, and a man appeared wearing a bloodstained white apron and a nametag reading _Otto_.

"Master Malfoy," Otto spoke in a raspy voice. "What can I do for you?"

Lucius waved towards his son announcing, "My son has come of age, and we're hoping to get this initiation out of the way this morning."

Otto looked over at Draco, who was doing his best to look like an arse. "Standard eye exam?"

Lucius nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so."

"_Accio eyes_!" Otto called out triumphantly.

Draco felt a sickening pull and pop as his eyeballs were summoned straight out of his head. He responded by shrieking loudly and flailing about the room.

"_It_ will settle down!" Lucius screamed loud enough to make Draco stop moving and hysterically whimper in place.

Draco could hear an odd rubbing sound, followed by a loud mouth suckling something juicy.

"These look like they're in perfect shape." Otto declared. "I'll give you one back right now even, so you can go and get the essay out of the way. Don't need depth perception for that test."

Draco felt his body stiffen as he was magically held in place. He felt Otto's grubby hand shoving an eyeball into his left socket with the care and gentle touch of teenage boy on prom night. A spell that Draco didn't understand and he felt his left eye heal. He slowly blinked his eye, adjusting to the light. It was then that he realized the spell had numbed his other empty eye socket, which was no longer bleeding or painful.

"Come along Draco," Lucius announced immediately, making it quite clear there was no room for discussion.

Draco got up from his fetal position on the ground, and once more made a show of dusting off his robes before hurrying after his father. He slammed hard right into the door frame as he left Otto's office.

The next office they ended up at had a crotchety old woman hunched over behind her desk. She pointed towards a few scraps of parchment next to a quill and ink.

Draco took his seat and looked at his test question: _Explain the advantages and disadvantages of killing the muggle way. Suggest someone you would be willing to kill with a non-magical method. _

Draco sucked on the tip of the quill pondering the best answer to the question. His was doing all he could to ignore the angry whispers between his father and the old woman at her desk. Finally he decided there were no advantages to killing the muggle way. It was a trick question. But of course he talked about cutting off Harry Potter's skin, using the forehead with the famous scar as a sealant to stitch Potter's heinie shut, while maintaining the appearance of an opening due to the scar. He then went into exquisite detail about how he could best use all the pieces of Harry for a variety of things like potions ingredients, serpent food, decorative earrings and necklace, and even how to stitch homemade moccasins from just the skin off his back. He whipped his way through the conclusion as Lucius had been periodically getting louder and louder with each clearing of his throat.

Draco handed the woman his essay and followed his father to the next exam. "What now, father?"

"Now, I'm afraid," Lucius said with a wince. "You are overdue for a physical."

"But…" Draco pleaded. "But I'm a Malfoy?" he finished in a question.

Lucius nodded sadly. "Yes, well, the idiots involved in modern healing seem to confuse the beauty of the Malfoys with a relatively common affliction called photoporphyriasis or some such rubbish. Just do as he asks and we'll move on."

Draco listened attentively and obediently, doing as ordered.

"Now turn your head and cough," the healer said for the eleventh time in the past fifteen minutes. "Good, good."

"Now I just need to test your reflexes," the healer said softly tapping on Draco's knee. The healer stood up and bitchslapped Draco right off the examining table. "Patient's reflexes are average at best." The healer bent back down when Draco pulled himself back onto the table. "Now, one more time, please turn your head and cough."

Draco was getting a little tired of this but obliged.

"Again please," the healer insisted checking thoroughly yet again.

"One last time," the healer said as Draco turned his head and coughed. "And I'm spent. Alright. Lucius? It is as suspected." The healer turned and addressed Draco, "We can't have any sun burnt Death Eaters, so this salve will protect you for the next twelve months. When the year is up, assuming you're still alive, we'll need to reapply it again."

"But I already exfoliate and moisturize!" Draco whined. "Too many oil-based products and I'll break out. And don't even try to feed me your water-based products line! I'm not an idiot!"

"Look kid," the healer snapped. "This isn't a suggestion."

Draco turned to his father. "But Daddy…"

Lucius' eyes flared in brief warning before he raged under what may have been an accidental _Sonorus_ charm. "It rubs the salve on its skin or else it gets the cane again!"

Draco started to sniffle. "Bu- but…"

"It rubs the salve on its skin or else it gets the cane again!"

One little whimper escaped Draco's mouth immediately followed by a massive _THWAP_ as he was knocked off the table once more.

"Stun him, if you have to," Lucius ordered the healer who was chuckling at Draco's rapidly growing welt on his cheek. "I'm going to get his eye."

The healer snickered as Lucius spun out of the examining room with an overly dramatic flourish. "Quite a father you've got there."

"Watch your tone, whelp," Draco snarled at the dirty old man.

The healer just rolled his eyes and stunned Draco to shut him up.

Lucius returned in time to see his son, unconscious, naked, and his body glistening covered in the moist salve. With the healer's help they rolled him over and stuck his eye back into its socket.

The healer asked Lucius, "I'll sign off on it Lucius, but you know how I feel."

"Yes, yes," Lucius grumbled. "I've been hearing that from everyone today. You can always blame it on the usual, if you have to."

The healer nodded in agreement. "Let's wake him up, then you can get him to finish his paperwork and take him to the tattoo parlor."

Draco opened his eyes and couldn't help but feel slimier than usual. He assumed that must be the salve.

"Come along, Draco," Lucius ordered as he stood up.

Draco shook the tiredness from his head and hurried after his father. They were back at the front desk they'd arrived at.

"Must we go through all of this?" Lucius asked hopefully.

The man with thick glasses nodded with certainty. "If you want it on the books-"

"Larry, please!" Lucius interrupted with a fervent look in his eyes, stealing glances at Draco.

"Fine," Larry replied staring back. "But you've got to do every piece of paperwork. This is non-negotiable."

"Hey!" Draco yelped. "I've got two eyes!"

"Obviously he can count," Lucius pleaded. "Do we really need all this paperwork?"

"I sympathize Lucius," Larry continued. "I really do. But we cannot let anyone through without the paperwork. It's the backbone of the entire recruiting process."

Lucius rolled his eyes and handed Draco the first stack of forms to fill out.

"I'm doing you a favor as it is here," Larry explained to Lucius. "But you know, if our Lord finds out then…"

"I know, I know," Lucius agreed watching his son begin to fill out all of his paperwork. "I _Imperioed_ you into it. But I _obliviated_ you too, so no hints! I don't particularly want Master finding out."

"Oh shit," Larry gasped. He hurried poked himself in both eyes in an effort to make them watery.

"Finding out what… Lucius?" The Dark Lord said with a dangerous smile.

Draco looked up for a moment and waved to the Dark Lord with a smile before turning his head right back down into his paperwork.

"Err… nothing, Master!" Lucius replied as he fell to his knees before his Lord.

"And just what are you doing, Porter?" the Dark Lord asked Larry.

Larry shook his head as the tears mixed with a little blood were streaming down his face. "Oh no! Oh dear! I think I'm under the _Imperius_ curse. I must snap free of it."

With a lazy hand motion, a sharp red stream rocketed out of the Dark Lord's wand and Larry feel to the ground flailing in pain. The Dark Lord shook his head and explained, "No, you're under the _Cruciatus_. Idiot."

"Lucius?" the Dark Lord continued dangerously, ignoring all the thanks Larry was giving him. "Do you seriously carry a misguided belief that you could ever deceive me?" He looked back over at Draco who was focusing intently on his paperwork, completely unaware of the business in front of him. "Come here, Lucius." As soon as Lucius was close, the Dark Lord put hand on his shoulder holding him in place. The next thing Lucius heard was his Master's voice screaming inside his head, "_Legilimens_!" Lucius knew he couldn't resist the Dark Lord's power and didn't fight it in the slightest. When the Dark Lord pulled back and looked back over at Draco still doing his paperwork, the Dark Lord let out a loud belly laugh.

Lucius paled and began to kiss his Master's robes. "I beg of you Master. Please. I am yours to command."

The Dark Lord could only shake his head and continue to laugh. He was really getting a kick out of this. He smiled at Lucius and turned towards Draco. "Young Master Malfoy."

Draco looked up and saw his father on his knees and the Dark Lord… smiling at him? Draco grinned happily back. "Yes my Lord?"

"Come here, Draco," the Dark Lord purred glancing back at Lucius' panicked face. "No no," the Dark Lord clarified cheerfully. "Leave the paperwork. You're a Malfoy. You won't need it."

Lucius could be heard gulping, and the Dark Lord was highly entertained to know it wasn't because Lucius cared any for his son. It was merely fear for his own station.

"I have a special assignment for you, young Malfoy," the Dark Lord grinned deviously.

"Anything my Lord," Draco obediently agreed.

The Dark Lord saw Draco didn't seem to have as much fright as his father and smiled at both Malfoys as he explained. "Draco, you are going to kill Albus Dumbledore. You have until the end of the school year." The Dark Lord smirked at Lucius and added, "If you fail, I will kill your entire family. Is that clear?"

"Yes Master!" Lucius insisted not wishing to anger the Dark Lord at the moment. Just as Draco was going to open his mouth, Lucius smacked him across the face with his cane once more.

"Excellent," the Dark Lord victoriously announced, personally having every faith in the world that Draco had as much hope for success as Harry Potter did for living to graduation. "Now it's been a little while, but I think I can remember how to claim my loyal servants. Draco, hold out your forearm please."

Draco steadied himself, knowing better than to ask a question right now. He rolled up his sleeve and presented it for his Master.

The moment the Dark Lord's wand touched his skin, Draco began screaming and shrieking in pain as he flailed about.

The Dark Lord stood taller and stopped. "That was just my wand. I didn't even cast a spell yet."

Draco's photoporphyriasis was acting up as he blushed a sickly pink color. "Sorry," he uncertainly admitted.

The Dark Lord shook his head, knowing Draco's attempts over the next year were going to be terribly entertaining and hopeless. He made a small motion with his hand, locking Draco into place. He put his wand back against the skin, and watched Draco to see if he'd start screaming again. When he didn't, he cast "_Morsmordre_!" The Dark Lord listened to the pleasing symphony of the young Malfoy's screams and enjoyed the acrid smell of his flesh burning into the familiar Mark that all of the Dark Lord's servants carried.

"That looks smashing," the Dark Lord gaily admitted examining Draco's new tattoo. "Lucius, we will talk later. Draco, don't disappoint me. Porter, _Crucio_." He held the spell for just a couple seconds on Larry who'd been quietly watching the proceedings. With a quiet pop, the Dark Lord disappeared from the training facility.

Lucius pulled up his feebly whimpering and crying son. "Come along, Draco." They disappeared through the floo without another word.

When they reappeared in the foyer to Malfoy Manor, Lucius turned to his son. "There you go, Draco. You're a real Death Eater now." He sighed and thought he'd try asking again. "Don't you think it's time to give the big boy pants another shot?"

Draco shook his head with a frown, holding back his tears. "I miss my Myrtle."

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**THE END**

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	6. Last Words of the BoyWhoLived

_**Author's Note**: This is another old Potter's Place 3 scene writing entry. Again, kinda average. Maybe I'm remembering wrong but I may have gotten second on all of them. (I'm trying to not remember there being only two entries.) This time I chose the option about writing the 'last words before he's wrongfully executed.' Idea kept growing out of control and never got the interest to take it as far as my imagination wanted to go.  
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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**LAST WORDS OF THE BOY-WHO-LIVED  
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Today was going to be a great day.

Ministress of Magic Delores Umbridge had never felt better. She'd been elected to the post officially nine months ago, but she'd been Acting Ministress ever since Rufus' tragic death. In the midst of war with the Dark elements, the former Head of Aurors, Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour managed to kill himself on a slippery bathroom floor. Two personal guards were waiting right outside the door while he unconsciously bled out a head wound he'd received on the toilet bowl rim.

That had been a good day for Delores. Today was going to be a great day.

Six months ago, she'd finally managed to arrest the most notorious criminal around. Lucius Malfoy had graciously offered to be the bait, and Delores had eagerly passed on the information.

_Dear Mr. Potter,  
Lucius Malfoy has been apprehended and unless we have some concrete evidence, is going to be released for reasons of being subject to the Imperius Curse. He seemed slightly fearful when the interrogation led to you, and if you could shine some light on our investigation it would be greatly appreciated. Today is the last day we can hold him without further evidence.  
Thank you for your cooperation,  
The Ministry of Magic_

The rumors had been that the boy was on a quest for Dark Power. No one had seen him except at the occasional Death Eater battle, where he was quickly earning the fear of the Death Eaters. Delores had suspected that the boy was the Dark Lord behind it all. Perhaps he'd always been ever since that fateful Halloween night, or who knows when the exact moment is that a rotten egg spoils. But arresting him without a fight brought up her approval ratings fourteen points in a single day.

That had been a very good day for Delores. Today was going to be a great day.

For the last six months they'd been interrogating him, asking him how he contacts his followers, why he defiled the memory of his parents, why he killed his friends and their families. First they tried veritaserum, compulsion potions, Legilimency, and the Imperius Curse. Then they tried mental and physical abuse, they tried torture, and they tried tricking him. But they could never get the answers they wanted. They couldn't even get the answers they didn't want. Nothing seemed to break the boy.

For the last six months with the boy held tightly and surrounded by dementors, there hadn't been a single Death Eater attack anywhere, and that had been the most damning evidence. Finally, she convened an emergency session of the Wizengamot and with their backing issued the executive order. It was time to kill the young Dark Lord in the name of justice and righteousness.

Today the Boy-Who-Lived was going to die. Yes, today was definitely going to be a great day.

Delores had enjoyed a delicious breakfast and was now going to oversee a private closed execution with only a small gallery of every major and minor wizarding publication in the world, mixed in with barely two thousand of the people personally damaged by the actions of the Boy-Who-Lived.

The event was going smoothly. The introductory press conference could even be called spectacular. The boy was escorted in looking thin, weak, and dirty. When his sentence was announced, the crowds all cheered and jeered the silent, filthy boy.

Delores couldn't help but notice he wasn't slouching nor showing signs of exhaustion. They kept him in his cell surrounded by a dozen dementors. The effects of the dementors were too much for the others so they had use Aurors to escort him to and from the cell, so he always seemed a bit stronger than he looked in the cell. She was expecting, if anything could break him it would be this. Slightly dismayed that he wasn't weeping or crying out some cockamamie story, Delores frowned.

A team of six aurors lined up across from the Boy-Who-Lived and kept their wands trained on him. He lifted his head and stared at them, showing no sign of emotion at all. Just simply stared at them, his eyes almost hypnotizing those who dared to look back.

Now for the most distasteful part of her job, Ministress of Magic Delores Umbridge stood up and called for silence. Once she had everyone's attention, she explained, "It is the right of the guilty to give a final statement." She turned to Harry and smiled vindictively, "Make it count, boy, as these are the last words you'll ever get to say."

Harry met her stare and it only strengthened his resolve. He lifted his head up high and proudly, scanning all the stands surrounding the courtroom they were in. Flashbulbs popped as pictures were continuously being taken. He gave them a moment to quiet down and began in a soft voice. "I've never felt anything but disappointment in the wizarding world."

All muttering and mumbling stopped as everyone was curious as to what the Boy-Who-Lived was going to say.

Harry slowly began getting louder as he spoke. "I spent the first decade of my life locked in a cupboard with abusive muggles, completely unaware of the existence of magic. They abused me both emotionally and physically, but as a child I didn't know any better. They hurt me and made sure I knew I was worthless."

Harry kept pausing making sure they were hanging on his every word. "So you can imagine my surprise when someone told me I was a wizard. And not only that, but I was famous. I found the idea that I was famous even more distressing than I did to discover my parents weren't alcoholics who hated me and died in a car crash, but that they actually… loved me, died to save me, and were magical as well."

Harry chuckled quietly and sighed. "I suppose I may have been expecting too much. Thinking there was an entire world out there where I could be loved, where I wouldn't get beaten for getting good grades. Where I could eat just as much food as anyone else and where not only wasn't I spit on or kicked, but I was allowed to make friends, allowed to talk to people, allowed to… smile."

The silence in the room was deafening.

"Sadly," Harry suddenly continued. "The wizarding world was nothing but a bunch of narrow-minded egotistical festering sores on a society that's been in steady decline for centuries now."

There were a number of shouts of anger and protest. Several people began throwing things at Harry.

Harry just ignored them and continued on louder. "What does it say about the wizarding world that growing up the way I did, I still have more respect, love, and admiration for the muggles than I do for this sad, little microcosm of hatred and prejudice that is your society?"

Things were getting out of hand, Delores was about to call for order when she was interrupted by the boy.

"SILENCE!" Harry yelled louder than even a Sonorus should allow. Let alone the fact that the magic inhibitors he wore even prevented accidental magic. He stared up angrily at everyone putting that same fear in their hearts that the Death Eaters felt at the sight of him. "I call the wizarding world your society and not mine for a variety of reasons that would no doubt anger and disappoint you. But today, I am prepared and ready to do my part and become a valued member of this wizarding world. Today, I, a man of principles, beliefs, hopes, and dreams, will denounce these things and die unjustly like every respectable member of wizarding society. Today, I will finally belong with all the others who have been struck down by mere political maneuvering and die for no reason other than being right and surrounded by a world of wrong. I am here to freely accept the death you seem so willing to dish out. And let it be known, I am secure in the knowledge that you have all doomed yourselves to your own death or for those lucky select few, a lifetime of servitude to the Dark Lord Voldemort."

A series of gasps echoed around the courtroom's stadium seating, and Delores took the opportunity to seize control again. "Don't you say your Master's name, boy!"

Harry almost smirked at her. "And I suppose if I do, you'll arrest me?"

Delores snarled but signaled to the aurors to begin.

Harry dropped his head and said quietly, "Congratulations Voldemort. You're capable of molding and manipulating the minds of the weak and worthless."

The man standing next to the aurors counted down from 3 and ordered, "_Fire_!"

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Six voices called out in unison, sending the bright shining green of the Killing Curse towards the chained prisoner.

Harry lifted his arms up seemingly willfully accepting his oncoming death. His head tilted back, and his eyes were closed. And at the last moment he lackadaisically announced, "Duck."

The crowd shrieked as all six Killing Curses bounced right off of Harry and flew off wildly in all directions. The aurors dropped to the floor to avoid the reflected Killing Curses. One of the curses hit one of the aurors as it was reflected at an angle towards his feet. Three of them went off wildly towards the ceiling of the courtroom and two of them flew off into the crowds killing two women.

Harry snickered as he recognized one of them was Rita Skeeter. He loudly added, "No one's ever accused this government of being intelligent. Though with their predilection towards false and fabricated accusations, feel free to mark me down as the first."

"Order! Order!" the Ministress called out to the panicking crowds. When she saw they were still several people rushing for exits, she cast a cannon blast charm that echoed loud enough to make Griselda Marchbanks' ears bleed. When she saw they were calming she continued, "Settle down please. If you feel you must leave, do so in an organized manner. Aurors?" She asked the five men on the ground with her trademarked sickeningly sweet smile that helped her win the election. "Kill him!"

A couple aurors were checking on their downed friend while the other three scrambled to their feet. One of them walked up to the Boy-Who-Lived who was making no effort to resist or fight back. He was merely amused and shaking his head. The auror held his wand out away from his body and placed the tip of it against Harry's chest. He pushed in putting pressure right above Harry's heart and incanted loudly, "_Reducto_!"

The screamed spell attracted everyone's attention as they saw the auror's wand and hand explode violently. Harry actually flinched as the still warm blood splattered into his face.

"Get an axe!" Delores ordered and an auror hurried away.

Harry tiredly just shook his head. "Haven't you people learned anything? If not from history, than from these last few moments?"

The auror came running out from the tunnel and swung the axe in a vicious downward slice aimed straight at Harry's neck. The axe hit an invisible barrier and clanged off, putting a sharp dent in the axe blade.

"Don't you get it?" Harry called out to the remaining enthralled and concerned masses. "I'm too strong for your feeble attempts at death. You won't be able to kill me. I'm protected by a prophecy."

"What prophecy?" Delores demanded, having heard rumors of this for a long time.

Harry closed his eyes recited the fateful words Sibyll Trelawney had foreseen, finishing with his chin held high. "…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

Harry nodded resolutely. "That's me, _the one with the power_. And '_either must die at the hand of the other'_ which unless you're as slow as Delores here, you should realize means no one can kill me but Voldemort!"

"We don't have to kill you, boy," Delores snapped. "We can lock you up for eternity."

"But Ministress," her under-secretary begged. "If that prophecy is true then we need his help…"

Delores snarled and saw the Boy-Who-Lived didn't look pleased or smug, but still indifferent.

"No, no, Ministress," Harry insisted. "You want me dead, and I've accepted it. So come on Voldemort!" Harry called out, his eyes scanning the crowd. "I know you're here! There's no way you would miss this!"

More and more people were shrieking and streaming for the exits now. Barely half of the people remained, but then Harry caught the eyes of the one he was looking for. Those red calculating eyes just stared back at Harry curiously.

"Come on, Riddle!" Harry yelled staring right at the Dark Lord. "Do these useless pissants you wish to rule over a favor and come kill me! No one else is going to do it, you mudblood son of a bitch!"

Those still around followed the Boy-Who-Lived's line of sight. When the Dark Lord stood up and they finally realized he really was in fact there, the pandemonium increased by an order of magnitude. The crowds rushed away from him, other than a dozen or so heavily concealed Death Eaters. The mass exodus cleared a path as the Dark Lord calmly strolled up towards Harry, completely unconcerned with everyone else in the room. Guards were trying to clear everyone of importance, but Delores shook her head and insisted on staying to watch. She huddled down to try and hide. She wanted to see both of these men die, but would gladly settle for just one of them today.

Voldemort glided towards Harry until he was standing only ten feet away. There were a dozen black-garbed wizards standing protectively around their Master. "I must say, I underestimated you, Potter."

"No you didn't," Harry said shaking his head. "You overestimated the worth of the wizarding world. It means nothing to me. These poor excuses for magic users are what pass for a wizard these days? I know how you treat your slaves, and I know I'm not alone in the opinion of these people's worth."

Voldemort subtly glanced at the people with him and seemed to smirk. "Yes… well."

"No," Harry continued. "I will gladly take the death everyone wishes for me rather than deal with their fear. These people they don't see magic for what it is and they never will. You wish to be a God among men but that's impossible. You and I, Tom, we're men among insects."

Whether it was the tone or the words, Voldemort wasn't the slightest bit offended to be called his given name. It felt like a begrudging sign of respect, though he still suspected Potter was up to something. Voldemort began playing with his wand, as he always did unconsciously preparing himself for battle. He quietly asked, "When did I break you, Potter? Whose death was it that hurt you so badly?"

Harry smiled sadly and shook his head.

"Was it the Weasley girl?" Voldemort inquired watching Harry carefully, looking for any sort of sign or indication. "Because I've owned her mind since her pen touched my diary's page. You were far too strong for that, but she's been nothing but a puppet since. She may have thought she had free will, but she was marked, she was claimed. She was… dirtied. Frankly she never had a chance."

Harry nodded. "I know full well the taint of your manipulations, Tom. The love potions three years ago stank of your heavy hand."

"Obviously not her then," Voldemort ruminated. He was tapping his chin with his wand, watching Harry. "Whose death hurt you so bad that you would give up without a fight? This is horribly disappointing to me, you realize." Voldemort was slowly pacing in front of Harry watching him. "Why would you be so eager to die rather than fight me for your life? Even if none of these other people matter to you, I know you love and honor your parents and they _thrice defied_ me so that you could live."

Harry chuckled. "I suppose I could claim I'm doing it because I want the rest of the world to pay for their mistakes, but I think we both know I don't even care enough about them for that to be true." Harry sighed and looked up at Voldemort. "Let's try this one then: A wise but ultimately foolish old man once told me, '_Death is but the next great adventure_.' Think maybe I can convince you of that one?" Harry asked looking the Dark Lord straight in the eyes.

The Dark Lord stared right back and he was frustrated at the lack of response or will to fight back as he tested the veracity of Harry's claim. He sighed tiredly in frustration reading complete and utter truth in his young nemesis. "Very well, Harry," the Dark Lord replied almost warmly. "Farewell, Potter. I fear you're the last challenge I will have ever had to face." He snapped his wand forward with clear focus and determination, loudly proclaiming the incantation that had started their long battle, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

The lime colored spell flared brightly towards Harry, who only had time to smirk victoriously before his body slumped forward and fell to the ground completely lifeless.

Delores was watching the proceedings with anticipation and nearly jumped with joy at the sight of the Boy-Who-Lived dead.

The Dark Lord stumbled forward but caught himself on one knee. He put his hand up to his head, and the two closest Death Eaters moved to help him. He pushed them away while his eyes cycled between dirty blood red and Killing Curse green, before settling on the right eye green and the left eye red. He was twitching a bit but stood up proudly. With a wave of his hand, all of the doors to the courtroom slammed shut and sealed close.

The people that had stayed to watch were beginning to realize that perhaps they made a mistake.

Voldemort curled his lips as he smiled proudly. "It's too bad you all had to see me stumble there, as it has cost you the remainder of your lives." He seemed to delight in the sound of the shrieks as the maybe one hundred remaining people were banging on the doors, screaming for help. The Dark Lord turned towards his right and said, "Peter, come here please."

Wormtail reluctantly moved over to his Master, noticed his eyes, and opened his mouth to mention the odd colors, when the Dark Lord plunged his hand straight into Pettigrew's chest and ripped out his beating heart. Several whispered words and the heart began to rapidly deteriorate from a brilliant cherry red color to a diseased and flaky black. The blood dribbling out the side started as a steady stream of liquid that thickened into glop as the heart withered in his hand.

The Dark Lord's eyes closed in concentration as he took a deep breath and hissed out a magical exhale into his closed empty hand. He opened the empty hand while holding the charred husk of Peter's heart in the other. A misty black and gold substance seemed to burn in the air above his open hand as he flexed and stretched it in his fingers. After about ten seconds, the Dark Lord seemed satisfied and slammed the contents of his hand into the crusty dried heart of the last Marauder. A few more whispered words that not even any of the surrounding Death Eaters understood and the heart that had started to beat in his hand again, seared with heat as it flashed three times before rippling into a shiny silver solid metal heart.

The Dark Lord smiled in pleasure and finally opened his eyes, revealing two bright green eyes. He looked around at the Death Eaters surrounding him, and all the scared faces of the others trapped in the room watching with undisguised amazement and fear of the Dark Lord. He could feel the eagerness in those surrounding him. "Death Eaters, _my_ Death Eaters. Today is truly a great day. Today the Boy-Who-Lived died and it marks the beginning of a new age where I, Lord Voldemort, shall reign supreme for all eternity over this world and the next."

He looked up to the crowds and gleefully announced, "I have one more thing to say to you before you die. A wise but ultimately foolish old man once told me '_There is no good and evil, there is only power…and those too weak to seek it_.' Far be it from me to condemn anyone who seeks power, but I happen to be of the opinion that there truly are both good and evil." The grin on his face was enough to send everyone there into nightmares as he loudly exclaimed, "And_ I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_!"

The green-eyed Dark Lord looked down on all the Death Eaters surrounding him, awaiting his command before doing anything that might anger or please their Master. He could sense the anticipation that they all wanted to earn his favor and please him through their actions. He hissed out in joy, "Kill them all. And have some fun. You never know if this day might be your last."

The Dark Lord stretched his muscles and calmly walked over, beckoning maniacally, "Oh Delores?"

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**THE END**

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	7. Harry's First Time

_**Author's Note**: This one was an abandoned The Anachronistic Adventures of Patch and Eddie (TAAoPaE) chapter that again got out of control. It was later turned into a challenge response to a Potter's Place 3 scene competition. It was to write about Harry's first time. It's a full response to the challenge but it's only about half of the whole story as it would've fit into Patch and Eddie's world._

_Like other TAAoPaE chapters, it has 'time' in the title, but the problem was too much back story and explanation required for all the random connections. And subject matter a bit more mature than I'd been doing in TAAoPaE.  
_

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**HARRY'S FIRST TIME  
**

The three time travelers appeared in a small dark tunnel with a very low ceiling and next to no visibility. Harry barely even had enough room to fall spectacularly on his arse. And Hedwig and Dobby barely had enough light to laugh at him struggling to his feet and rubbing his sore bottom.

"Oh shut it." Harry grumbled and raised his wand. "_Lumos_."

Dobby looked down to the tunnel in one direction and then the other. "Well, I think we can go that way or this way."

Hedwig rolled her eyes at Dobby's excellent deductions.

"Wait a minute," Harry said. "I know this place."

"You recognize an unlit tunnel?" Dobby asked dubiously.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I do! This is… this… is…" Harry trailed off. "Why would I recognize an unlit tunnel?"

Hedwig and Dobby shared a knowing look.

"Oh!" Harry said with dawning comprehension. "This is the tunnel that leads from the statue of the humpback witch on the third floor all the way to the back store room of Honeydukes!"

"We're under Hogwarts? Really?" Dobby asked. "I never knew there was a passage here."

Harry nodded. "Yup. This is the way to Honeydukes. As curious as I am about Hogwarts, we'd have a lot more explaining to do if we got caught there than we would in Hogsmeade."

Dobby gasped. "Patch! That was very sound reasoning and mature decision making."

Harry stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry at Dobby. "What can I say? I'm an intelligent young man, not the impulsive little boy you treat me as. Race you to Honeydukes!" He yelled before sprinting off taking his wand light with him.

"Patch!" Dobby yelled. "Patch! Wait!"

"No way!" Harry yelled over his shoulder. "I'm not falling for that one again."

Dobby just sighed and nailed Harry in the legs with a tripping hex. Harry went crashing and skidded down the tunnel.

"Oww!" Harry screeched as he rolled over to get back up to his feet. "That was cheating. I win because you're disqualified. I rule!"

"Patch, shut up for a minute." Dobby said with a tired sigh.

"Fine." Harry pouted. "But you're still disqualified."

Dobby seemed to accept his disqualification without argument. "Patch, I was just going to tell you that since we _are_ somewhere magical, where you might potentially be recognized, you should flip up your eye patch and hide your scar."

"Oh, right." Harry said as he flipped his eye patch up. "Let's see if we might run into younger versions of us! _Tempus_!"

The spell shimmered and displayed, "_2:17 PM, March 21, 2024_."

Harry turned to Dobby with wide eyes. "We're in the future!"

Dobby nodded in comprehension, "And it's only been about 25 years since we left, so you definitely had better keep that scar hidden. The people around here may very well remember you. After all, you did die in pretty spectacular fashion and who knows what happened once we left."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks _Mom_," Harry said with a sarcastic smile. Apparently, he hadn't gotten over his elation for winning his one-man race. "Come on! Let's go see what new developments there's been in candy!" Harry cheered before sprinting back down the tunnel.

Dobby just shook his head. He muttered to Hedwig, "Yes, let's hurry and get that boy some sugar. That'll only lead to good things."

Dobby and Hedwig hurried and caught up with Harry just as he poked his head through the trap door. "Looks all clear."

Harry started moving and Dobby stopped him. Dobby whispered sternly, "Patch!"

"What?" An irritated Harry asked.

"Invisibility cloak, no arguing. At least until we know a bit more."

"Fine." Harry pouted before brightening into a smile. "This'll be just like most of my visits to Hogsmeade."

Hedwig perched on Harry's shoulder and Harry threw the invisibility cloak over him and Dobby. They quietly entered the main store area of Honeydukes. Harry was a little disappointed to notice it seemed pretty much exactly the same. He paused and stood silently behind two kids who just bought chocolate frogs. Dobby had to throw up a quick silencing charm as soon as he saw them. Harry yelled "Sweet!" to see both kids get different Harry Potter chocolate cards.

"Well, I guess they haven't forgotten about me yet." Harry said with a shrug.

Dobby rolled his eyes and pointed towards the wall behind Harry. Harry turned and groaned to see an entire line of Weasley Wheeze candies based on the 'Hero-Who-Lived.'

"Let's get out of here," Harry whispered as he led them to wait by the front door until it opened again. The three snuck around the corner and Harry whipped the invisibility cloak off them. They walked out into the street and began silently observing the crowds. Everything seemed, well pretty much the exact same. A few things were cleaner and shinier, but overall it didn't seem like much had happened in twenty-five years. "You know, while we're here, we should buy some history books. They'll help us both by catching us up with the future, and give us more information on what _not_ to do in the past."

"Like summoning asteroids," Dobby suggested.

"Yes," Harry nodded, "Like summoning asteroids."

Dobby stiffened and pointed to Harry's left. Harry turned and saw a very cute girl with short black hair walking towards him purposefully. She reminded Harry of someone, but he wasn't sure who. She caught Harry's eye and held eye contact while she walked right up to him. Harry waved to calm Dobby and he turned to face her.

She leaned forward and whispered into his ear in a refined but gentle voice. "No names. No questions after this one: Do you want to have sex?"

Harry snapped back to look her in the eye. "Uhh…" He turned to Dobby. "Umm..." Finally he snapped out of his daze, and shook his head back and forth vigorously. He looked her right back in the eyes. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes."

The girl giggled and flashed a smile that could melt hearts. "Follow me."

"Wait! Gimme two seconds." Harry pleaded and smiled cheekily.

Harry quickly approached Dobby. Hedwig had apparently gone off to hunt or perch but was more than likely nearby watching out for them. "Eddie, listen, you're going to need do the history book shopping and information gathering without me. I have this other lead that I'm going to follow up on my own."

Dobby had since spotted a few of the changes in the area that had escaped Harry's notice. He decided not to mention anything to Harry. "Alright, I'll find you later then. But do me a favor, and keep a bean ready. This is probably one of the most dangerous places for us."

"You got it, Eddie. I'll see you later." Harry said and hurried back to the calmly waiting adorably cute girl with the short black hair. He was tempted to ask her what her name was, but realized he had agreed to no questions. And then he realized he'd agreed to no names. "Alright," he announced as he walked up to her. "Let's go."

She smiled that warm smile again and turned to lead him down the road.

"So where we headed?" Harry asked.

She turned to him with that smile still on her face, and was about to answer, when Harry blurted out. "Oh crap. Sorry. No questions. I forgot." Harry held up a hand as he thought for a second. He stated in an intentionally flat, clearly not inquisitive voice, "I would like to point out that I am curious where we are going."

She laughed at Harry's monotone voice. "I just meant no questions about why or who we are. And for your information, we're going to the Shrieking Love Shack."

Harry just made a confused expression that she misinterpreted as she assured him. "Don't worry. I'll pay for the room."

"Err…thanks." Harry replied.

Harry meekly followed the cute girl, who he realized was blessed with an absolutely excellent derriere. She apparently got a room with the deluxe cleaning charms, standard silencing charms, privacy wards for a three hour time period.

Harry's mind was only able to process one thought. '_I'm gonna do it._'

It was less than ten minutes later that Harry yelled exuberantly, "That was so cool!"

The cute girl, who Harry was amazed to discover, makes tiny quiet squeaks on occasion, smiled and said. "Mmm-hmm."

Harry's eyes got a little crazy and he grinned mischievously at her, "We have _got_ to do that again!"

She grinned and shrugged, "Err… okay."

Ten minutes later, Harry was beating his fists on his chest, and screaming like a triumphant caveman. He stopped his victory chant and smiled at the girl and started jumping on the bed. "That was even better!" Harry belly-flopped onto the bed and laid down right next to her. "This is awesome."

She giggled at his enthusiasm. "It's not unpleasant."

Harry smiled in pride at her compliment on his magnificent prowess. He put on his best puppy-dog eyes. "Can I, can I, can I… can I do it again?"

She laughed out loud seeing the pathetic look he was making. She shook her head and grinned. "Knock yourself out."

Less than fifteen minutes later, Harry was thrusting both his fists into the air in exultation. "Whooooo!" he yelled, before collapsing and smothering her sweaty, glistening, naked body with his own.

She poked him in the ribs and received no response. She lifted Harry up by the hair and his jaw dropped open and Harry began snoring softly. "Holy crud. He really did just knock himself out."

She got up, grabbed her clothes, and went to the bathroom. She took a quick shower, and got dressed. She went over to the irrepressible young man.

"Hey, wake up." She pinched him and saw him begin to stir. "I didn't expect you to actually knock yourself out."

"What?" Harry blearily said as he began to remember what led him to this point. His face broke into a bright smile as he just looked at the girl. "Oh… right." Harry made a stern face. "Well perhaps you should have been a bit clearer now, shouldn't have you."

She just giggled and rolled her eyes at him. "Anyways, I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you. The room is paid for until at least 5:30, so you can nap a bit more if you want, but you'll be kicked out sometime after that."

"Alright," Harry said still in a daze of pure bliss. "Goodbye to you too. You're welcome, although from my point of view," Harry lunged forward and clutched the girl in a tight hug. "Thank you so very, very, very, very much." Harry had to hurriedly wipe the tears from his eyes before she noticed.

She shook her head at him. "Toodles," she said with a small wave as she disappeared from view.

Harry fell back and just laid there in bed, happier than he had thought possible. He began thinking why in the world he hadn't been trying to do this more often, when a very important thought crossed his mind. He put pants on as quickly as he could and left the rest of his clothes where they were. He ran out of the room, and out of the Shrieking Love Shack. He spotted that adorable derriere in the distance. He was sprinting towards her. "Hey! HEY!"

The girl recognized the screaming voice, stopped walking, and slowly turned around recognizing the shirtless young man chasing her down.

"Wait, before you go. You used a contraception charm, right?" Harry unabashedly yelled out across the crowds.

The girl looked horrified before she just began blushing like crazy and had to cover her mouth to hide her smile. She yelled back, "Right!"

"Cool," Harry yelled back, before turning to return to the room at the Shrieking Love Shack.

A cute girl with curly red hair was staring at Harry's sweaty, shirtless abdomen. She fought a blush and walked up to Harry regardless. She stammered out, "Di- di- did you just have _sex_?"

Harry puffed up with pride. "Yup. My first time."

Her blush darkened a bit but she did her best to ignore it. "I've heard that it's pretty fun."

Harry nodded earnestly. "You have no idea! I mean I'd always thought it'd be pretty cool but…" Harry just shook his head in awe. "It was amazing! They need to invent new words to describe how wonderful it is! I mean it's better than _quidditch_!"

"You lie!"

"Uh-uh!" Harry argued back looking the redhead in the eye with a deadly serious face.

The girl looked at her feet as she walked next to Harry on his way back to the Shrieking Love Shack. "Do you…" She bit her bottom lip. "Do you want to do it again?"

Harry stopped immediately and turned to the girl. He barely even gave her face and figure a once-over before looking her straight in the eye. Harry nodded resolutely. "Yes. Yes I do." Harry grabbed her hand into his own. "Come on." Harry said and pulled her along to his room.

After forcing Harry to turn away, the curly haired redhead was undressed and hiding under the covers. Harry saw her blushing and had no such reservations dropping trough and displaying him in all his one-eyed glory, excusing the patch that was still covering his lightning shaped scar.

"You know, it works better if there aren't so many sheets and comforters between us."

"You just… _did it_… with Lucia," the girl blushingly admitted. "I'm nowhere near as pretty as she is."

"Lucia?" Harry asked. "Hmm… nice name. I never knew that. And you shouldn't get hung up on details like that. Speaking from experience, I can promise you it's the act involved far more than the parts."

"Aren't they supposed to be bigger than that?"

Harry frowned and commented, "I'm beginning to see the benefit to that 'no questions' rule."

"I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry."

Harry waved her off, not really with the necessary amount of blood flow to be embarrassed. "I don't care. But what I do care about is whether you still want to do it?"

"You'd… you'd still have me?" she nervously asked.

"Honey," Harry explained. "I don't think you understand how cool 'doing it' is."

She smiled hopefully and sat up. She slowly let the sheet fall revealing her pale, bare chest.

Harry just looked at her impatiently not willing to make any advance without an indication.

She sat there wondering what now but saw Harry appeared to be twitching. "Yes," she said since it didn't appear to be obvious. "Yes, I still want to do it."

In a move not entirely appropriate for a young girl's first time, she was spear tackled to the cushiony soft headboard.

Ten minutes later, Harry was nodding at the girl. "You see? Isn't that what I was telling you-"

"That was so cool!" the curly red-head shrieked loudly.

"I KNOW!" Harry cheered.

"Is it always that quick?"

"From what I can tell… YUP!"

"Let's do it again!"

"OKAY!" Harry screamed unnecessarily loudly.

Fifteen minutes later, the self-conscious redhead, was screaming to the almighty, "Sweet merciful Merlin! Why do people do anything else?"

Harry was lying back catching his breath. "I just don't know. It doesn't even make any sense, you know?"

"No wonder my parents never wanted me to find out!" she said smacking herself in the forehead. "I don't think I ever want to go home."

"Well we can't do this forever," Harry argued.

"Why not?" She frowned.

"Well," Harry sighed, unprepared to make this argument. "Umm… we need to eat and stuff."

The redhead grinned goofily rubbing her sweaty little tummy. "I can't go off _doing it_ on an empty stomach."

Harry paused for a moment as his mind started to process things. "That phrase sounds… familiar."

The girl frowned. "My dad says it all the time." She mocked an older man's voice, and parroted, "I can't go off refereeing quidditch on an empty stomach. I can't go off lying to your mother on an empty stomach. I can't go off drinking and babysitting on an empty stomach." She sighed. "He's such a prat. Course half the time he says it, Mom will chuck the nearest book at him."

Harry was sitting there scratching his head. He knew there was something he was missing.

"Anyways," she continued. "That was my first time. And second and third too, I guess."

Harry was contemplating the idea of getting a bit of sleep, while wondering why this girl kept talking.

"I don't even know you, but I figured if you were good enough for Lucia then you're definitely good enough for me."

Harry furrowed his brow at that logic. He thought this girl was fishing for a compliment. And while Harry believed she was every bit as attractive as the first girl, minus the munchably perfect derriere, he wasn't sure he was ready to commit to a conversation.

She turned to look at Harry curiously when he hadn't spoken up. "You know Lucia is a lesbian, right?"

"Really?" Harry said with a smile. "Is she in theater?"

The girl just gave Harry an odd look and shook her head. "I don't believe so."

"Oh crap!" Harry said jumping up. "Please tell me you've used contraception charms."

The girl nodded and sighed. "Thank Merlin for Aunt Ginny. She's the one who gave me the potion, which I'm on by the way."

"The potion?" Harry asked, not really thinking straight.

"You know, _the potion_," she explained. "So that witches aren't making more wizards and witches?"

"Oh right," Harry snapped his attention to the cute young naked girl in bed with him. "Well, yeah. I mean… hang on. Did you say _Aunt_ Ginny?"

The girl nodded, paying no attention to the dawning look of horror on Harry's face. "My older brother Harry is pretty nice to me, but my parents are such complete losers! I'd go crazy without Aunt Ginny."

Harry just sat there staring at the girl and suddenly began to notice exactly who she looked like. Harry gulped loudly and said, "Who- who- who…" Harry stopped and took a breath. "Who might your parents be?" Harry asked dreading the answer.

The girls face scrunched up as she haughtily answered, "Hermione and Ronald. And yes, mom's name is first."

Harry couldn't help it. He snorted so hard a small snot-rocket came shooting out his nose. "Ronald?"

The redhead teen nodded while giving Harry's unsubtle booger launch a glance.

Harry controlled his sniggers, and then remembered what they were just discussing. "Bloody blue bollocks! I gotta go." Harry leapt out of the bed and began getting dressed as quickly as possible. He wasn't paying attention and put his boxers on after he'd already put his pants on.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"Let's hope a century or two away," Harry mumbled to himself.

"Can I see you again?"

Harry guffawed and yelled, "No!"

She seemed to sadden and frown. "So I guess this is goodbye?"

Harry was nodding fervently. "Goodbye!" He called as he hopped out the door not looking back. He briefly stuck his head back in and added, "Forever!"

And suddenly, the emotion and the enormity of what just happened caught up with the young girl. She broke down in tears of joy, anguish, and confusion.

"Eddie!" Harry called out running from the Shrieking Love Shack. "Eddie!" Harry called again. He stopped abruptly as he caught sight of a street sign. He was struck dumb to realize the town he was in had been renamed and was now called Pottersmeade. He smiled briefly until he saw a pair of angry redheads running past him.

As soon as they had shot by, Harry resumed his search. "Eddie! Edddddddie!" Harry once again stopped abruptly and smiled. He completely missed it but the candy store was no longer Honeydukes. It made him feel special to see kids in the window at the sweet shop now referred to as Harrydukes. It was the sight of a raging angry, bearded, Ron Weasley storming down the street, snarling as he went, "I'm gonna kill him! He's dead. Dead, you hear me! DEAD!"

"Edddddie!" Harry whined, looking around franticly. Harry was quietly scurrying his way down the street wondering, "How the heck can I get Dobby's attention?"

No sooner had he finished the word Dobby that the elf in question arrived. "Patch!" He called out.

"Eddie!" Harry shrieked in joy. "We gotta go. We gotta go _now_!"

Dobby was nodding slowly looking over Harry's shoulder to see a pair of identical twin redhead men stalking angrily toward him.

"Hey you! With the eye patch!"

"Get Hooters!" Harry screamed as he took off running. "Get Hooters _now_!"

Apparently, apparition was a skill the twin men had a talent for and Harry was unfortunately lacking the clear mind for at the moment. As such he was turning down every alley way and hidden door he could find. He'd had to dodge four spells already and they were getting closer with each effort.

With a pop Dobby appeared right in front of Harry, carrying Hedwig on his shoulder. He saw Harry skid to a stop right in front of him. He looked around Harry and saw a stampede of angry redhead men sprinting their way. "Hey Patch, isn't that-"

"Yes!" Harry snapped. "Beans now!"

"Aren't you curious what they've been up to?" Dobby asked.

"I said beans!" Harry barked as he chewed up three on his own and just grabbed Dobby and Hedwig in a tight hug.

Seven curses from angry redhead men all crashed into the space from which Harry, Dobby, and Hedwig had all flickered and disappeared.

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**THE END**

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_**Author's Note**: I still like the idea of Harry sleeping with Ron and Hermione's daughter right after losing his virginity to Luna's young and nubile lesbian lover who wanted a baby for her and Luna to raise. And yes, she was seeking out magically powerful sperm donors and thus a wide-eyed naive young Harry Potter was the perfect option. Hey, in my mind, it could definitely happen.  
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	8. The Legend of Alex Rider

_**Author's Note**: Some people skim straight over these author's notes and have missed some of the point to this "story" and its updates. So allow me to once more reiterate that most of the chapters here are OLD fics or ideas that aren't going any further. Not many of these are actually new, just posted on this site for the first time. Many written months/years ago when I wrote with less care and planning than I try to employ in my fanfiction these days.  
_

_Actually, this latest update is the first one that I've not posted previously for public consumption. So first off, **this is a brand spanking new ALEX RIDER one-shot**. If you know nothing about Alex Rider, then this probably won't make nearly as much as sense as it will for those who have read Alex Rider. I'll admit, I've not read any of the Alex Rider books, but I have seen the movie, read through the wikis, and a fair chunk of the fanfiction on this site._

**SUMMARY:** This is the story of a very important day in the transformation of Alex Rider from reluctant teenage super-spy into MI6's most valued and effective secret agent. Or at least one way this author likes to imagine it happening. Expect some light-hearted sarcastic humor, little to no angst, and a helping hand from K-unit.

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; Alex Rider and the elements of his universe all belong to Anthony Horowitz. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**THE LEGEND OF ALEX RIDER  
**

Alex looked down at his exam with a frown.

He should have known this was coming. The first week of a new school year and the first week of a new English teacher? It was practically a foregone conclusion that this would be on the unofficial questionnaire masquerading as a pop quiz.

_What did you do over the summer holidays?_

To most it would seem nothing more than an uninspired attempt from the teacher to learn something and get to know her students. To a teenage spy, it presented an opportunity.

Alex was tempted to answer truthfully, but he knew that would get him into trouble with the new teacher right off the bat.

Not to mention his blackmailers-turned-employers.

Then there were international relations with the Americans and Israelis to consider.

And something told him that Hizballah wouldn't be too crazy about the truth either.

No, Alex decided that while amusing, the truth would not be a good idea. He was mentally weighing the options on just what sort of lies to use this time and took the opportunity to glance around the room.

This year already seemed to be going worse than the previous. After missing more school than he attended last year, it was just barely that Brookland even let him move up. The whispers and rumors among the student body were already in overdrive. Some claimed him a drug addict, others insisted he'd been in and out of prison, undoubtedly due to his many supposed gang affiliations and drug smuggling associates.

He hadn't helped himself any when he overheard a group of young girls claiming he'd killed a man. But he maintains it was worth it to sneak up on them and whisper, "More than one."

Frightening the other students had become Alex's new hobby this year. The rumors had been easy to ignore when he had his best friend Tom Harris with him, but this summer Tom had moved away.

Tom's parents' divorce was final and he'd left to live with his dad. Alex had been out of the country when it happened and came back to a letter from his friend filled with apologies. Apparently Tom had wanted to stay here with his friends and Alex in particular, but Tom's mum wasn't wasting any time in getting back on the market.

Two nights in a row of waking up to the sounds of random guys shagging his mum rotten was all the catalyst Tom needed to move in with his dad. Alex couldn't find it in him to blame Tom. After all, Tom's mum was pretty hot.

All of that meant that Alex had been back at school for almost a week now, not missing a single day, but he felt more isolated than ever.

He wasn't ready to say the prospect of being called into MI6 was a welcome one, but his cries of annoyance about not getting a normal life were a little less vocal. And he still wasn't ready to ponder over his realization that he did more lying and acting pretending to be 'normal' and around students his age than was ever required in his spying.

Seeing all his classmates' heads down, pencils busy working on the pop quiz, Alex re-read the final question again. Feeling sorry for himself and knowing he'd aced the rest of the quiz, he scribbled out the words, '_that's classified_,' and set his head down on his desk.

"Mr. Rider!" the teacher exclaimed from the front of the class. "Are we boring you?"

Alex smoothly sat up straight, ignored his classmates mocking chuckles, and answered, "No, ma'am. I finished my exam and was trying to not disturb the others still working."

The teacher's brief scowl felt like a small victory and Alex had to restrain his impulse to grin.

"Bring it up here," she instructed. She'd been warned that Rider was a problem student despite no shortage of intelligence.

Alex deftly avoided a couple of his classmate's attempts to trip him up and presented the pop quiz to his teacher.

She glanced through the first two pages before flipping to the end. She frowned and read aloud, "Classified?"

An expression of 'aw crap' flashed through Alex's eyes as he just smiled weakly.

"Fancy yourself a spy, do you, Mr. Rider?" the teacher chided. "Or just a comedian?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Bentley," Alex said acting moderately contrite.

"I've seen your attendance records the past two years, Mr. Rider. Perhaps you should consider a little less goofing off during the times you're not ill and a little more focus when you actually make it to class."

Alex was biting his cheek while the other students snickered behind their hands and coughed out words like 'druggie' and 'loser.'

Miss Bentley began to feel ashamed at how meekly Alex took her criticism and his classmates' scorn. She held out his paper and softly suggested, "Think you'd like to try again on the last question?"

"Thank you, Miss Bentley," Alex said taking his exam back and returning to his seat.

He'd only just sat down when his ears perked up. He could hear heavy boots stomping with every step headed down the hall.

"The name's Rider," an especially annoying boy named Jeremy Hurley sitting two rows over mocked in a poor Sean Connery impression. "_Alex_ Rider."

"Settle down, class," Miss Bentley chided her snickering students. "Now that we've established Mr. Rider isn't a spy…"

Alex had tuned them all out as he heard classroom doors flying open and slamming shut getting progressively closer and closer. Adrenaline was flooding his system as his instincts were screaming danger.

The door flung open and a shockingly familiar face appeared scanning quickly through all the students. His quarry found, he exclaimed, "Cub. Up and at 'em. Now."

The class and Miss Bentley were all gaping in shock at the heavily armed SAS soldier who burst into their room and began shouting at Alex Rider.

Miss Bentley turned to Alex in confusion.

"I've never seen this man before in my life," Alex pleaded, desperately hoping Wolf was just a figment of his imagination. He looked back down and proceeded to work on the last question of the pop quiz.

"I don't have time for you to play kiddie shit," Wolf snarled as he hurried forward. He reached around his back and produced a gun. "MI6 says you can handle small firearms, right?"

Alex took the offered gun and continued to play dumb. He shrugged helplessly, as Wolf went right past him to peer out the windows.

He saw Miss Bentley seemed to be genuinely wondering and quickly added, "I'm not a spy."

"He's a spy," Wolf shouted without turning around, keeping his eyes focused out the window.

"What are you doing?" Alex harshly whispered to his occasional SAS team leader.

Wolf glanced back at Alex, making sure he was holding the gun competently and turned back to the window. "Situation's changed. And you're way too hot. I'm your escort to a new life."

Alex turned to his flabbergasted class. "I swear I'm not a spy."

"He's a spy," Wolf reiterated louder. "And unfortunately for him, he's really good."

Alex spun back towards Wolf, wanting to smack him for actually complimenting him at a time he couldn't make fun of Wolf's kindness.

Wolf pulled up a pair of binoculars and was looking out the window. "You had to know this was coming, Cub. Too many terrorist organizations know exactly who you are and what you've done. Reports indicate over a dozen well known assassins have entered the country in the last half hour. The word's out worldwide and it's going to be a messy free-for-all."

Alex saw no one believed his claims that he wasn't a spy. He leaned closer to Wolf and asked softly, "What are you talking about?"

"Three million," Wolf said, sounding slightly impressed.

"Huh?"

"That's the price tag on your head," Wolf said looking over his shoulder, trying to make it look like he was imagining how he'd spend his money. "You can't just take out number two and number five on the most wanted terrorist watch list and then attend public school under the same name."

Alex winced, knowing too many people seemed to have heard news and rumors of his adventures.

"Down!" Wolf shouted pulling Alex to the floor.

Gunfire began to rain over all the windows as every student and the teacher fell to the floor, screaming and covering their heads from falling glass.

"Stay down," Wolf instructed as he swung his automatic weapon into position.

Loud pops echoed around the classroom as he returned fire.

"Get in the corner and stay down," Alex instructed waving everyone away from the windows. He saw his English teacher rushing to follow his order and realized he may have been a little too commanding. "And I'm not a spy."

"Give it up, Cub," Wolf said ducking down and reloading his weapon with a forceful snap. "I'm supposed to make sure you understand Alex Rider is no longer a viable cover."

"It's my life!"

"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you made out with an African drug lord's wife." Wolf popped back up and let loose another hail of bullets.

"She kissed me!" Alex insisted.

"And his daughter."

"Well," Alex paused before feebly arguing, "I had to escape."

"You know a little help here wouldn't be out of line," Wolf barked as he ducked back down.

Alex looked at the frightened faces of his classmates and peered out the window. He saw an arcing metal ball headed towards the window and blinked in recognition. "Shit," he swore as he grabbed the nearest book and snapped into action, batting the grenade back out the window like a cleanup hitter.

An explosion rocked the building followed by the screams of injured thugs.

Wolf was already back at the window picking off the people close enough to use grenades.

The teacher Miss Bentley screamed and pointed at the door, trying to position herself in front of the students.

Alex had already sprung into motion, sprinting to the front as someone tried to sneak in. He slid across the smooth linoleum and slammed feet first into the door, trapping a seriously pissed off and heavily armed woman.

Alex grabbed the barrel of her shotgun and was pointing it up and away, while she snarled, "You're going to die, Rider."

Alex pushed on the door between them, letting go of the gun to chop her soundly in the windpipe. Pressing his advantage, he began violently slamming the door shut on her head and neck.

Every fleshy smack was greeted with gasps of pain and blood splatter on the door and frame. Alex let up for a second and smashed the butt of his gun into her temple, knocking her out cold.

He saw the class staring at him as if they were seeing him for the first time. Wolf was shouting into his mic while still trading shots with gunmen outside. Alex had a small smile as he admitted, "Okay, I _might_ be a spy."

Gun shots peppered the door frame inches from Alex's hand as he ducked for cover.

The class began screaming again and Wolf shouted, "You have a gun, Cub. Try using it as something more than a blunt instrument."

Alex took a deep breath and peeked around the door for less than a second before he'd pulled his head back.

More bullets smashed into the door, as Alex prepared himself.

"We need that exit, Cub. How many?"

"Seven," Alex replied as he whipped around the corner, fired off three shots and whipped back. "Make that four and a half."

"A half?"

"Blinded one I think," Alex replied, before spinning back and taking out two more.

Wolf dropped down and switched to a pair of smaller handguns as he was barking orders into his mic. "The courtyard's too hot. We need a different exit. Eagle, you know the contingency plan that got you so excited you nearly wet yourself?"

Alex turned to see the smile on Wolf's face, really not liking the sound of that.

"Do it," Wolf ordered.

"You know we can't sneak out," Alex said, smoothly catching the additional ammo Wolf tossed his way.

"Oh really?" Wolf replied, already knowing the answer but testing Cub.

"These people came to kill me," Alex said snapping in a fresh clip. "We can't leave them thinking I might still be in here."

Wolf nodded when Alex glanced at the rest of the class huddled in the corner. "Then we'd better make sure they know we've left."

Alex frowned at Wolf's grin. He could hear a fair amount of chatter coming from Wolf's earpiece. "Do I even want to know?"

"Come on, Cub," Wolf said as he got to his feet, just to the left of the bullet hole ridden window frame. "You know you're going to be famous in this school for years. Might as well give them something to remember you by."

Gunfire could be heard coming down the hall along with the sound of screeching tires. A muffled crash worried Alex, but gave him an opening to shoot the last two men in the halls.

When he turned back, Wolf was hunched down, right next to him, clearly riding an adrenaline high. "You ready?"

Alex didn't even flinch as the classroom door was kicked open by a grinning Fox.

Eagle was smiling brightly despite the blood-soaked bandage over his arm. He was sitting behind the wheel of a shiny new pick-up truck that he'd happily driven through the school hallways.

"Cub," Fox said spinning his automatic weapon away and offering him a hand up into the open truck bed. "The gang's all here."

Snake fired off two shots from the passenger seat in the cab of the truck, shouting, "Play time's over boys. Let's roll."

Alex climbed up with Fox's help and shot two armed men who came flying around the corner.

Wolf backed out of the room and told the class, "Stay down and in that corner. Authorities will secure the building just as soon as we're gone." He hopped into the truck while Fox, Alex, and Snake were all laying covering fire. Two loud knocks on the roof of the truck and Wolf shouted, "Hit it!"

Eagle floored the accelerator and the truck peeled out down the hall, bouncing wildly down a small series of steps, and exploding out the glass front doors at better than 30 kilometers an hour.

Alex could only grin, knowing the last thing he heard before leaving Brookland for the final time was Jeremy Hurley's confused voice squeaking, "Was that my truck?"

The next few hours at the school were subdued chaos as rumors and stories were spreading like wildfire in the aftermath of the excitement. Soldiers secured the area while the clean-up crew worked and intelligence departments tried to control the flow of information.

If Miss Bentley had been paying attention she would have seen the normally emotionless director of MI6 irately confiscate Alex Rider's final exam at Brookland. He was particularly not amused to see Alex had answered the final question, "_That's classified,_" with a subscript of "_If you want to know more, you'll need to talk to Alan Blunt. Harsh looking fellow with a really bad toupee. He just moved to 1247 Wembley Road. Or you can try to reach him on his new personal mobile, (020) 8555 1366. He may not be willing to declassify it but he's still a fascinating conversationalist. Ask him about his thoughts on international child labor standards._"

But it was just as well no one else had seen his answer. After all, the legend of Alex Rider was not going to be soon forgotten.

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

_**Author's Note**: Reviews on this one would be appreciated as it's not a fandom I've written in before this. Aside from another short, shiny happy one-shot that's unfinished at the moment. It may get knocked out and added to this misc. collection.  
_


	9. An Instrument of Will

_**Author's Note**: Back to Harry Potter on this one. For those skimming, **this is an old abandoned Harry Potter ficlet**. This was written in the week after HBP came out. I was still trying to convince myself it was a good book then and it seemed like everyone might try their hand at a horcrux hunting type fic. My biggest complaint was how we didn't see any growth in power or abilities for Harry. So I went into it knowingly and intentionally supering him up a bit. But I did the whole trio and took it way too far. Considering I felt like post-HBP Harry would lose a duel with a training dummy, I think my over-reaction was warranted. But anyway... I got 7000 words in and my interest in writing it died. I left it alone and then went back to finishing _The Untitled Cheekquel Project_. My interest in continuing it never came back, so if anyone else wants an uninspired super-trio start, feel free to take this one.  
_

**SUMMARY:** Post-HBP. The trio started on their horcrux hunt but it became quickly apparent that they were going to need some help from a higher magical power. Of a sort. Not much humor here. Just a first and last try at a pretty uncreative plot. Well, it's mildly creative. This is **ABANDONED AND U****NFINISHED** and on my Yahoogroup since September of '05.

**

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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* * *

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**AN INSTRUMENT OF WILL  
**

_Dear Mum,_

_Sorry we left so suddenly but we had been waiting too long as it was. This is something we must do. Hermione's parents have agreed to go into hiding. It wasn't easy, but they understand enough. I hope you can understand it. This is something that must be done or else Voldemort will win. Hermione and I are here to support Harry and to learn as much as we can. We will be back, hopefully soon. But there are things we have to do, before Harry can face him._

_You won't be able to contact us. I'm sorry but it's just not possible at this point. We will try to make sure and send you letters, so you know we are doing well and missing all of you. You're the best mom a kid could hope for. I'd ask you to make sure to take care of Ginny and everyone else, but we all know you always take care of everybody._

_We'll write again soon._

_Love,  
Ron_

Molly Weasley was in tears as she finished reading her letter to what remained of the Order of the Phoenix. Without Albus Dumbledore, a great many of them felt lost and were beginning to lose hope. Harry Potter, for all intents and purposes, up and running away did not help matters. Their only known spy within the Death Eaters' ranks appeared to have turned traitor and murdered Albus Dumbledore. The leadership seemed to have turned into a muddled council of Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, and several random Weasley males, though primarily Arthur and Bill.

"I don't see what there is to discuss," a heavily scarred, but recuperating, newlywed Bill Weasley pointed out. "They have left and have something they feel they must do. If it is something Albus tasked them with, as I suspect, then we should support them in this. And for now, that's leaving them be, and awaiting their return."

Remus nodded. "We definitely should keep our eyes and ears open for them, and to help them should they need it. But it would be a waste of resources to actively search them out. Especially considering they are going to be sending us semi-regular correspondence to assure us of their ongoing health and success."

Molly Weasley sniffled into her handkerchief but had already had this argument with Arthur and lost. Besides the kids would also simply be safer out of the country, or so she was told.

* * *

The attacks from the Dark Lord had increased in frequency. With the death of Albus Dumbledore and the disappearance of Harry Potter, Voldemort knew the Ministry was still completely unprepared and heavily began his campaign of terror again. Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, the Ministry, St. Mungo's, were all under frequent attack. Mostly small raids that were extremely quick and destructive attacks with a primary purpose of inspiring fear.

Hogwarts opened as normal on September First. Headmistress McGonagall was doing everything in her power to make sure the school continued as Albus would have wanted it to. There were barely half the students returning, and only seventeen new first years. No one was sure why Voldemort never attacked Hogwarts, but most theorized that the presence of Dumbledore's resting place provided the hallowed institution with additional protections.

Voldemort on the other hand, did not fear Hogwarts, but the fact remained that it had many ancient protections on it. And for now, there was little to be gained from an attack. Not only that but he felt confident in his certain success. Dumbledore was dead and Potter was gone. He knew Potter would be back eventually. It was just a matter of what sort of world would be remaining for Potter's return. He now had an entire nation susceptible to his complete control, and he was not going to waste this opportunity of the chaos following Dumbledore's death by chasing the brat around the world. He had his followers keep their eyes and ears open and would send out small teams to capture Potter wherever he was sighted. The Mudblood and the Weasel could be exterminated on sight, but Potter was to be taken in alive.

* * *

_Dear Bill,_

_We just heard a rumor that Fleur is pregnant. Congratulations! That's fantastic. I must say, if it's a boy, I highly recommend the name Ron. Trust me. He'll love it. Our travels have taken us some pretty amazing places. And we've all been getting a wide variety of training. As if Hermione really needed to improve her spell repertoire. And Harry picks up things so fast it's amazing. _

_This one day we were walking through a forest, approaching an ancient temple. We had already been attacked by Death Eaters that morning, so we were a bit on edge. Well except for Harry. He's not really ever off edge. He's always so focused and determined. When, while we were following the path, Harry just out of the blue begins to lecture us on how to track people. He stops in a clearing area and explains to us, how we should never rely on a single sense to tell us about our immediate environment. How we should listen to everything around us, and smell the changes in ambient air. He goes off on how to identify invisible people, while he's just circling this clearing. He explains how we should use reflections in objects, in water, even in people's eyes to identify and observe threats beyond the normal scope of vision. He points out how invisible people still leave footprints, and many make slight noises. He even says if you pause, center yourself, and focus your magic on hearing you can pick up someone's heartbeat even if they are thirty feet away. Then he takes out one his throwing knives, holds it by the tip and flips it up in the air and catches it. He starts to explain how to sense when ambushes are going to be sprung. When he flipped the knife up in the air for a third time, his free hand whipped out faster than I've ever seen and another one of his throwing knives sizzled through the air right at a tree twenty feet behind him. About a foot before it hit the tree, it sliced through an invisibility cloak and went all the way through Dolohov's shoulder forcing him to drop his wand and pinning him to the tree. Apparently he had been following us since Harry began his lecture. Harry caught the knife he had been flipping, and slowly turned to smirk at the idiot. I've never seen a man get so pale so fast._

_The good news is that the temple was everything we had hoped it would be. And because of it we are now one step closer to coming home. We're not ready yet, but it is definite progress. The bad news is Dolohov got away. And Voldemort will no doubt know the significance of the temple. Which makes things much more difficult on us. Harry and I are still trying to convince Hermione that we may need to be taking more drastic steps with any further resistance we meet. Personally, I'm of the mind, that at this point in the war, prisoners aren't an option._

_Please send everyone our love. And I figured I could write you with some of the details and let you merely pass along our continued health and success to Mum and Dad. We're closer to coming home, getting better, and all healthy._

_We'll write again soon._

_Cheers,  
Ron_

* * *

Severus Snape felt it was time he faced the brutal truth. He had been trying to pass along information to what was left of the structure of the Order but he was not going to risk his position as the Dark Lord's favorite over it. They seemed lost without Albus' leadership. He knew his loyalties had been divided, and sometimes he wasn't sure whose side he was on. When Albus was alive, Severus had always felt he was on his side. But Albus had forced him to kill him. He had no choice and it was Albus' wish to make sure his death served a purpose. But now, who was there on the side opposing the Dark Lord that he wished to see win? That he could even imagine co-existing with in a Voldemort-free world? None of them would ever forgive him for killing Albus. Even if they knew that Albus forced him to, it would matter little to them. His life was forfeit, even if he did manage to escape the Dark Lord's clutches and somehow the Dark Lord was defeated. It was time Severus made the only choice he could.

He approached _his_ private chambers and knocked. After being invited in, he bowed and said, "My Lord."

"Severus. You seem agitated. What brings you here today?" Voldemort asked with a cruel smirk.

"My Lord," Severus began. "I have been playing the role of the spy for too long. It has changed me and caused you to doubt me, rightfully so, on many occasions."

Voldemort's curiosity was piqued.

"I feel my deceptions in the past have hindered my usefulness to serve you." Severus maintained his calm demeanor, despite being more nervous than he can ever remember. "I wish to completely open my mind to you and let you see the things I have been hiding from you."

The moment Snape finished his statement Voldemort petrified him and walked up to the man. He stared Severus straight in the eye and cast _Legilimens_.

The Dark Lord rifled through his servant's mind roughly. He carefully viewed all the meetings with Dumbledore, as well as all of his interactions with Potter. He took his time going over his Death Eater missions, seeing exactly what had happened on the failed ones, as well as his most recent attempts to warn the Order of the Phoenix. He made careful note of every member and ally the Light side had been employing in the presence of the Potions Master. After almost two hours of continuous scrutiny, the Dark Lord canceled the spell and Severus collapsed onto the floor.

"I must admit to being a trifle disappointed in you, Severus," the Dark Lord said with a smile. "But I am exceedingly intrigued by this situation. You have just given me all of the knowledge you have, as well as making it abundantly clear that you serve me no purpose as a spy either. Is there a reason I shouldn't torture you to an extremely painful death?"

"My Lord," Severus wheezed out from the floor, still regaining his breath and bearings. "Now that you know all my secrets, nothing will hinder me from being able to assist you in any way you ask of me. My existence is now directly tied to ensuring that I remain useful to you. It was necessary so that I can serve you best."

Voldemort's smile thinned a little but he had not refuted any of Snape's statements. "So why now? You are no doubt well aware I could choose to be done with you. Why are you risking your life, when you believe you have been able to deceive me for so long? You would think you could continue indefinitely."

"My Lord, you are without a doubt the most powerful wizard in the world. The only person previously even in that discussion I disposed of." Snape was tempted to add 'for you' but knew that wouldn't be taken well. "You have all but already won. From my understanding the only even minor threat to your rule is an unskilled lucky teenage boy. I have nothing to gain from anyone winning except you, my Lord. And only if you allow me to serve you. If you accept my fealty, you know my motives, my purpose, and my drive. This is the best I can do, to both ensure that you do win, as well as ensure my usefulness to you."

"You expect me to believe you have no options but to ensure I win, directly because of Dumbledore's actions? That the old man's last request of you left you no choice but to assist me?"

"My Lord," Severus pleaded. "The old man's only hope was in the incapable hands of a child. He has too much faith in an immature boy who no doubt wishes me dead. I have nothing to gain by deceiving you ever again, my Lord. In fact, I know my skills in Occlumency will forever carry a stigma of suspicion, unless…" Severus stood up shakily and withdrew his wand. He looked his Master in the eye and said, "I, Severus Snape, swear on my magic to only ever speak the truth to my Master, the Dark Lord."

"I must say Severus, you are certainly trying hard to take away my reasons to end you. It is almost refreshing to see you showing so much _spine_." The Dark Lord leaned forward and asked, "Tell me, are you prepared to give your all to the cause? Because your actions this afternoon seem to indicate you wish to salvage your own life more than desire to serve me."

Severus stiffened and stated. "I will make no secret that I do not wish to die, but I know that is more your choice than mine. I _will_ do anything you ask me to."

"Excellent." The Dark Lord grinned. "Because I would like to see just how useful you can be. I think it's time you had a Judgment, Severus."

* * *

_Dear Mum,_

_Things sound pretty bad back there. I hope everyone stays safe and happy. I won't lie to you, Mum. Things got pretty crazy for us too. We managed to make it another step closer, but it was not easy. We all got hurt. Hermione and I have finished healing, but Harry's still in pretty bad shape. I'm not sure if news from Africa reaches you, but we ran into Death Eaters. A whole lot of them. I'm not even sure what happened, as I got knocked out first, and Hermione shortly thereafter. We had some help from the locals, but there were heavy losses both in the Death Eater ranks and the natives. Seems they've picked up on calling Harry the 'Chosen One' around here too. He should be completely healed in a few weeks though. Problem is, we're not sure where to go next. The leads we have all seem flimsy, but it would be too dangerous to come back prematurely._

_One of the elders of the village had a pretty radical suggestion. He's got Hermione convinced that our success is directly tied into all of us doing a certain ritual. It requires an awful lot of power and I figured this was one of those things that Harry would be doing without us but the elder was fervent that it was not just for Harry. I'm hoping it isn't necessary but it's something we need to talk over with Harry once he's up and around._

_We miss everybody. We love you. We hope to see you soon. In case we don't get another letter off before then, Happy Christmas to everyone._

_Love,  
Ron_

* * *

After three weeks in a coma, Severus Snape woke up and felt truly alive. He had passed his Judgment ritual, and was an officially anointed Dark Knight. He knew he didn't have the ambition nor the power to be a Dark Lord, but he was surely going to be valuable to his Master. Voldemort had done a Judgment ritual just a few years after he'd left Hogwarts. It gave him the strength and the title of Dark Lord. He had convinced a few other servants to attempt Judgments as well and they had all died. Until Bellatrix Lestrange emerged a powerful Dark Sorceress. And now, Severus Snape was a Dark Knight. Since he had magically pledged himself to the Dark, he was now bound to follow the Dark Lord. His loyalty would never again be in question.

Voldemort walked into Severus' room.

"My Lord," Snape quickly bowed his head with a smile.

"Welcome back Severus. A Dark Knight. I must say I wasn't expecting that, but it is a welcome surprise."

"Thank you, my Lord." Severus replied. He could feel a difference in the way his body responded to calling him 'Lord'. It felt more accurate now.

"The most important thing to note you missed while you were recuperating was a small attack. After reviewing your memories and seeing how much the Weasley's, particularly their daughter, meant to Potter, I decided he needed a reminder of his place. I sent a dozen men to attack them over holidays. Only the mother and daughter were home." Voldemort smiled an evil smile. "They were made an example of and their home was _redecorated_."

Severus smirked and nodded.

"I've put Bellatrix in charge of leading most attacks around London. And once you're in a bit better health, and you've readjusted to your body and magic's changes, I want you to go abroad and find Potter."

Severus smiled wider and nodded.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Weasley,_

_We just heard what happened. It doesn't seem real or feel real, since we haven't been in Britain for months. I'm sorry we're not going to be able to make it to Mrs. Weasley and Ginny's funeral._

_This has only made it more clear what we must do. We're all three going to do a Judgment ritual. We need power and guidance and we need it now. I suspect we're going to be different when you see us next. But if all goes well, we could be … I was going to say home, but with the Burrow gone I'm not sure what that word means anymore. But if all goes well, we could be back within a month._

_We miss everybody. We love you. Ron and Harry both seem to be lost in a daze. We're all grieving. We're all crying. And we're going to kill those bastards._

_Love,  
Hermione _

* * *

Three weeks after Mr. Weasley received that letter, and went ahead with the burial and memorial for his wife and daughter, Bellatrix Lestrange was leading a massive attack through Diagon Alley.

A force of nearly a hundred Death Eaters were flowing from the mouth of Knockturn Alley. Ministry Aurors and some of the available members of the hurting Order of the Phoenix were trying to fight back but were unable to make any ground against the sheer number of Death Eaters. The strongest contingent of Aurors were backed up to Gringotts and were defending their ground as best they could. The goblins refused to join either side in the war, but were willing to provide safe harbor during attacks on the Alley.

The mass of black cloaks was slowly converging on the remaining opposition. From the rear side, coming from the other end of the Alley, a massive explosion burst breaking through the back line of Death Eaters. It appeared as though the entire force opposing the Death Eaters from that side was a mere two cloaked figures. Upon hearing the screams of wounded Death Eaters, Bellatrix moved through the crowd to see the disturbance trying to flank them from behind. She gasped upon seeing the glowing white cloak the staff-wielding witch was wearing. "A Light Mage," she whispered.

The Light Mage moved with fluidity and grace not seen since Albus Dumbledore was in his prime. Every movement created skilled measured offensive attacks or additional defenses which had yet to even be breeched. She spun her staff straight at spells and batted them away, while items flew in the path of unforgivables, and shields were conjured to deflect other spells. Most of the spells she simply dodged, and passed harmlessly by as she maintained a constant motion to her movements that was nearly impossible to predict.

Bellatrix was entranced by the dance-like smoothness the witch had and was not paying attention to the Light Mage's comrade. The wizard, in the charcoal grey cloak with a hood up casting his face in shadow, sent a standard cannonball bludgeoning hex Bellatrix's way, when he noticed she was not paying attention. Bellatrix reacted immediately to the threat and put up a strong shield. She was unprepared for the force and power behind the simple spell headed her way. The shield held, though just barely, and Bellatrix stumbled back and growled. "Who are you?" Bellatrix demanded.

The wizard seemed to be ignoring her and continued to cut down Death Eaters in ways that ensured they were not going to be getting back up. He asked his witch partner, "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

The Light Mage nodded and was weaving protections all around while slowly moving all the wounded away from the Death Eaters. "Yes. She's a Dark Sorceress."

Their ability to recognize her did not sit well with Bellatrix. She ordered the Death Eaters to ceasefire and again asked loudly, "Who are you?"

The Light Mage stopped moving and slammed the butt of her staff into the ground. A series of translucent blue wards snapped into existence protecting the establishments and patrons of all the buildings along the immediate area of the Alley. An ethereal breeze seemed to flowing from the witch, and she pulled the hood of her cloak down. She remained alert and smiled. "My name is Hermione Granger."

An injured Death Eater was struggling his way to his feet and never saw nor heard the wizard in grey who slowly walked up behind him and cold-cocked him in the back of the head. The wizard's hood was down now too, and he said, "And I'm Ron Weasley," just as the injured Death Eater fell forward unconscious.

Bellatrix gasped. "The Mudblood and the Weasel!"

Ron smiled at Hermione. "You hear that, Hermione? I'm the Weasel." He was flexing his hands and cracking his knuckles. "Not just a 'Weasley' but the one and only Weasel. None of my brothers can claim that."

Hermione shook her head with a rueful smile. The Judgment rituals had definitely changed them. They had been broken and lost over the deaths of Molly and Ginny. But with the power they now commanded, they also gained a much deeper understanding. An understanding of who they are and what they must do. Their lives had a very clear purpose now.

Bellatrix mocked in a baby voice, "Does the Weasel miss his mummy and baby sister?"

Ron's demeanor quickly changed and he growled and was about to attack when he stopped suddenly. His anger faded away, and he just frowned. In a deceptively calm voice he warned, "You shouldn't have said that."

Bellatrix was about to continue when she felt a distinct shift in the air. Something big either just happened or was about to. She quickly looked around her in all directions. She managed to look up just in time to see someone falling from the sky. Like a massive boulder launched from a catapult, he came in at an angle and landed heavy, right onto a Death Eater near the middle of the crowd. The thunderous sounds of his landing and the cracking of the Death Eater's spine echoed throughout the now still Alley. All of the Death Eaters nearby fell from the force of the impact. The Death Eater that had been landed on had been literally crushed into the ground, and the cobblestone road buckled under the mass of the landing, creating a shallow crater in the Alley.

The man snarled at the Death Eaters surrounding him stupidly. They were just standing there staring. He caught sight of Bellatrix, crouched for half a second, and jumped up thirty feet in the air over the crowd of black cloaks and white masks. He landed a mere ten feet from Bellatrix, near the rear edge of the crowd, right on two more unfortunate Death Eaters. The air around him crackled with power and he left another impressive dent in the ground. "Bellatrix," he snarled out.

The crowd of Death Eaters parted, clearing a path for the man staring intently at the Dark Sorceress.

There was never any question who the man was. After seeing the Mudblood was now a Light Mage, and the Weasel appeared to be a Grey Knight, she was sure Potter was going to be a Light Lord. His odd, richly colored brown robes confused her. She quietly replied with a confidence she didn't feel, "Potter."

Harry began to slowly walk towards Bellatrix. He took two steps before she snapped out of her musings and yelled to the Death Eaters, "Get him!"

A furious explosion of curses from all directions were sent at the seemingly unarmed brown robed man. No shields came up nor was any effort made to dodge.

Harry could certainly feel the power of the incoming spells but knew they weren't any immediate threat. He stopped walking and just allowed the curses to hit him and the light seemed to be absorbed by his body. None of the effects of the curses were visible. His body barely even rocked back from even the most powerful of bludgeoning and banishing hexes. That is not to say they had no effect, but Harry was shielding himself in a way none of them could understand.

The Death Eaters saw the uselessness of their attack and took it as an offense to their power. The spells just kept coming and the intensity of them kept rising. No killing curses had been fired as it was well known the Dark Lord wanted Potter alive. It appeared the Weasel and the Mudblood were just content to watch their friend get cursed to high heaven. They were making no efforts to attack the Death Eaters or to help their friend.

They saw the look on Potter's face shift from indifferent to an angry intensity that had the people closest to him taking steps backwards. Bellatrix was just watching dumbly wondering what the hell was going on, while Potter planted his right foot forward and his left foot back. He seemed to be rolling his shoulders slowly, before arching his back, clenching his fists, and just snapping his upper body forward with a whip-like crack. It felt like the world was moving in slow motion. The air around Potter became visible and tangible. Invisible waves of power and heat distorted the view around Potter and a shockwave erupted straight from his chest. Bellatrix's eyes widened ridiculously and she barricaded herself under a bunker shield immediately. No one else that close to Potter managed to put up any sort of protection. The ripple in space of the quickly blossoming shockwave spread and expanded from its center. The people nearest to Potter didn't even scream, as they didn't have time to. Many others saw what was happening and began to throw up shields in front of their bodies. Those who neglected to shield their entire bodies felt the effects of the wave on their unprotected feet and ankles. Those were the loudest screams of pain as they all crumpled on the ground, most of them with small lacerations and blood oozing out their extremities. The dirt and foliage on the ground was completely unaffected, but as the wave of power rippled over stone and concrete, the sturdy rocks cracked and collapsed into shards and dust.

The scene's appearance was almost comical at this point. A lone man, in brown robes stood and watched Bellatrix drop her shield, and slowly stand, keeping her wand trained on the unmoving man. She saw it looked like the Death Eaters had just been dominos that fell and cascaded away from the man. Many Death Eaters were moaning and rolling on the ground in pain, while the rest of the Alley was simply silent and staring in awe and fright of the man.

Harry's eyes flared with power as he stared at Bellatrix. He took a deep breath and simply blinked his eyes at the Dark Sorceress. It was like someone had found the switch and just flipped it. Every remaining conscious Death Eater, injured and uninjured, collapsed on the ground in a deep sleep. Quiet snoring was the only sound for the next ten seconds.

Harry turned to his friends. "I don't trust the prisons at the moment. Let's keep these in our dungeons."

Hermione nodded, and began minor bits of healing on the Death Eaters who needed it, before transporting them to cells in an unknown location. Uninjured Death Eaters, Ron was gathering and apparating them himself.

None of the Aurors and other patrons of Diagon Alley were saying a word, or making any effort to talk to or to help the trio. They had just watched them mechanically overcome a massive force in a matter of minutes, and take away the Dark Lord's forces as prisoners. When all that remained were the dead Death Eaters, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all made eye contact with each other and nodded. Harry turned to the crowds of people, and bowed his head. Without a sound or movement, the trio disappeared from the wreckage that remained of Diagon Alley.

* * *

Sturgis Podmore burst into the hidden room of the Shrieking Shack that was currently a headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Anytime there was an attack, two members always stayed here to keep watch at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Today it was Bill Weasley and Remus Lupin who were tending to an injured Order member. Sturgis' words shook the two men to their very core. "They're back!"

"They're… back?" Remus asked quietly.

Sturgis nodded his head, astonishment plastered all over his face. "Hermione and Ron were kicking Death Eater ass, and then Harry came in and just fricking leveled them. Swear to Merlin, I think half of the conscious Death Eaters wet themselves."

"What?" Bill asked.

"Harry just exploded this ripple of magic or power or sumpin' that near as I can tell shattered any bones in its path." Sturgis quietly recounted. "He then stared down Bellatrix for about five seconds and just blinked." Sturgis paused. "Every damn Death Eater crumpled to the floor, fast asleep as a newborn babe."

Remus was smiling, thinking Harry was back. The one-sided battle was a bit hard to believe, but just knowing they're back, was a huge boost after the loss of the Burrow.

Bill, meanwhile, was thinking heavily about what he was hearing. "No wand, no incantation, just a massive concussion wave of _power_?"

Sturgis nodded. "Said they didn't trust the prisons and took all the Death Eaters to their own dungeons."

"Bloody hell Remus," Bill blurted out. "It sounds like Harry…" Bill laughed a bit maniacally. "It sounds like Harry might be a… well… a _Force_."

Remus' eyes bulged out as he stared at Bill.

"A shockwave of power is not something that is just magic. It's something else. And if they did Judgment Rituals and survived, they've probably changed."

Sturgis was confused. "_Judgment_ rituals? _Force_? What the bloody blue bollocks are you talking about?"

Bill explained, "To become a Dark Lord, Tom Riddle had to do a Judgment ritual, have enough power to pass it, and then get approved by a power and gifted some of that power. Lords are considered the peaks of the divided powers. There can be Knights, Mages, Sorceresses, Masters, Ladies, Lords, and maybe others. All of those must be gifted from the Light, the Dark, or the Grey. Voldemort is a Dark Lord, and represents the highest level of power possible through the Dark. I always suspected Albus was a Light Lord, but have nothing but conjecture to back it up. With Albus' death, and Harry wanting to do a judgment I assumed he would come out of it the new Light Lord.

"But a Force is something completely different. It goes beyond power divisions within the Light, Dark, and Grey. Forces are, according to legend, more specific powers, running along the lines of like a Force of Nature. True complete Elementals are Forces but those may be myth as well. There is a lot of evidence indicating Merlin was a Force of Magic and he was to usher in the modern era of wizardry and magic. If Harry is a Force, the entire tide of the war more than likely just turned."

Sturgis was amazed. "Why the hell haven't I heard of Judgment rituals before?"

Remus knew the answer to this one. "Because for 99 percent of us, they are nothing but suicide. You must have a lot of power, dedication, and purpose to pass a Judgment. A large majority of people think too much of themselves and die during them. Some of the luckier ones just lose their magic. Others lose their minds. The idea that Harry, Ron, and Hermione all did them and all passed is preposterous, though given Harry's involvement not terribly surprising."

"Remus," Bill asked. "Can you go to Grimmauld Place or try to locate the trio? We need to have a full Order meeting tonight and it would help if they were there. We'll use the base at Hogwarts. I'll contact Minerva and Dad. Sturgis, if you don't mind, I'd like you to stay here and firecall everyone. Tell about the meeting, but if anyone asks details, you can explain it if you want, or just tell them to wait for the meeting. I don't want you to mention the idea of a Force to anyone. We shouldn't get ahead of ourselves in case we're wrong."

Sturgis and Remus nodded. Remus and Bill apparated away, while Sturgis conjured a pillow for his knees. He had a lot of firecalls to make.

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange was regaining consciousness and immediately her senses told her something was wrong. She felt stifled and contained. As she opened her eyes she realized she was in a cage. And she was not alone. It looked like at least seventy of the attacking force were being held prisoner here. And they were contained by glowing white bars. No doubt the work of the Mudblood Light Mage. As servants of the Dark, and in particular, herself as a Dark Sorceress, there was little they could do to the bars of Light magic even if they still had their wands.

Bellatrix recognized one of the newer recruits in a cell next to hers as Adrian Pucey. He was awake, and his feet had been bandaged.

"You awake, Bellatrix?" Pucey asked.

Bellatrix rubbed her tired eyes and noticed all the other conscious followers were watching her. "Yeah, I'm awake." She sounded exhausted and weary.

"You know where we are? How to get out? Or what the hell happened out there!" Pucey ended with a loud frustrated voice.

"We're wherever Potter and his lackeys felt like stashing us because these are definitely not Ministry cells," she replied, too tired to scold him for his insolence. "In case you didn't notice the bars surrounding us were probably cast by the Mudblood, meaning they are especially effective in containing Dark wizards. As for what happened, Potter, the Mudblood, and the Weasel appear to have returned and have since learned a few tricks."

"Learned a few tricks! Ha!" a voice from beyond Bellatrix's line of sight called out. "They kicked our ass. I want to know _how_ they got so damn powerful."

An old raspy voice responded. "They passed Judgment. All three of them, it seems. The Mudblood is a Light Mage, though how that happened I have no idea. The Weasel is a Grey Knight. And Potter…" The voice chuckled. "Potter… on the other hand, I have no idea about. I half expected him to emerge as the Light Lord, but that was no Light Lord. He's something… _else_, something…"

"More." Bellatrix finished with a sigh.

The voice, now identified as Yaxley, could not keep the fear out his question. "Are you saying what I think you are?"

Bellatrix agreed. "I cannot explain it any other way."

Yaxley was clearly as worried as Bellatrix was resigned. "How can this be?" He asked, "Has there even been any Forces since Merlin, let alone a Force of Nature?"

"I doubt it," Bellatrix replied. "I don't know of any, and they'd have to have a pretty big purpose to be a Force. It'd be hard to hide something like that."

Pucey was getting frustrated. "You mind explaining what a Force is for those of us that weren't friendless Ravenclaws?"

"Admitting ignorance and being an asshole will not answer your question," another Death Eater suggested.

"A Force," Yaxley began loudly in an effort stem the childish bickering, "a Force is a being with powers beyond those of wizards. It can mean a Force of Nature, or for example, Merlin was a Force of Magic. Exactly what they are, and how powerful they are isn't clear. But usually it's considered a step above being a Lord."

"How the hell do you know they've passed Judgments and are what you say?" Pucey asked.

"Part of being gifted powers includes being able to identify others that have been _blessed_," Yaxley explained. "Bellatrix would be able to tell as she is a Dark Sorceress."

Bellatric nodded. "Very good Yaxley. And you are…?"

"Informed enough to seriously doubt I would have any hope of passing a Judgment," the tired old Yaxley replied with a sad smile.

"So how many people in the Dark Lord's service have been blessed?" Pucey asked.

Bellatrix turned and stared at Pucey. Finally she replied, "Just one more as far as I know, and he just passed Judgment a few weeks ago."

"Who?" a curious Yaxley asked.

"Severus Snape is a Dark Knight." Bellatrix replied. "Surprised me, as I had my doubts as to his loyalty, but Judgments do not lie."

Pucey scrunched his face, "You doubted his loyalty after killing Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore was old and dying anyway. It would make sense to use his eminent death in a way to further entrench his spy." Yaxley offered.

"And now you're so sure about him?" Pucey asked.

"He's a Dark Knight." Bellatrix explained with a sneer. "That means in his pledge to the Dark he will follow and support the Dark Lord. Were there any question about his loyalties he would have become Grey, or more likely, died."

"Pity that he didn't," Pucey said with a smile that.

"Oh that was smooth," an unexpected voice said from an unidentifiable location. Without a sound, Hermione Granger appeared in the corridor apparently having been standing there the whole time.

Pucey stood up, and shrugged. "We got what we want, and the Polyjuice is going to wear off any minute now anyway." With a snap of his fingers, the disillusionment charm fell on a still sleeping but identical Adrian Pucey lying in the cell. The standing one, who was no doubt Ron Weasley, walked straight through the glowing white cell bars as if they were nothing more than a waterfall.

"So Snivelly is a Dark Knight." Hermione stated, ignoring the growling Bellatrix Lestrange. "That makes it harder to believe he was ever on Dumbledore's side."

Ron's familiar red hair was beginning to show now, and his facial features were slowly morphing into his recognizable image. "Well, it gives more credence to the idea that Albus was the Light Lord. Motivations aside, having killed the Light Lord before his Judgment, would surely endear the greasy git to the Dark."

"What do you plan to do with us?" Bellatrix interrupted.

Ron looked at her coolly. "Hmm. Hey Herms, you think we could turn them into muggles, trap them inside their own minds, and send them back to the Dork Lard?"

More than a few gasps were heard at this pronouncement.

"Oh shush Ron. Besides before we do anything, Harry is going to need to talk to Bellatrix," Hermione stared at the woman, "about Horcruxes."

The slight widening of her eyes was all the assurance Hermione needed. Hermione smirked and began to walk away.

"Yeah. Even I admit it's funny watching them all fear Harry, _the Force_ _of Nature_." Ron said with a chuckle.

Bellatrix growled. "He has to be a Force! It's not possible for him to have pulled off the concussion wave otherwise!"

Hermione and Ron smiled at each other and seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes. Finally Hermione smiled weakly and just shrugged.

Ron turned to Bellatrix. "He's not a Force."

Bellatrix was staring at him trying to determine the truthfulness of his statement, when he smirked back at her and added, "He's an Instrument."

And everything Bellatrix believed and held dear collapsed around her. "We've lost." She proclaimed and slumped down in her cell.

An astonished Yaxley gasped. "I didn't think an Instrument could be mortal."

Hermione shook her head at the glee on Ron's face and she left the dungeons. As she disappeared she called out, "Who ever said Harry was mortal?"

"How can you say that!" an irate Death Eater yelled at Bellatrix. "He's just one being. And what the hell is an Instrument anyway?"

"No," a tired Bellatrix shook her head. "We've lost. I seriously doubt all of us together could overcome a Force. It's possible but unlikely. But an Instrument?" Bellatrix chuckled darkly. "If he's an Instrument, we only survived that concussion wave because of his mercy." Her madness seemed to be flaring up and she chuckled and sobbed to herself.

Yaxley explained, "A Force can be fought. It can be _resisted_ and potentially overcome. But an Instrument is more like a tool. It has a purpose and its existence is tied into that purpose. He's an axe and we're all logs. There is no fighting or overcoming. You just hope to stay out of his path."

"There has to be something we can do!" An unidentified Death Eater asked.

"Oh don't let Bella's pessimism get you down." Ron offered them. "There is one thing you can do."

Yaxley raised a curious eyebrow at the now leaving Ron Weasley. "And just what is that?"

Ron looked over his shoulder and smiled to all the Death Eater's watching him. "Pray."

* * *

**ABANDONED**

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_**Author's Note**: ...and that's all she wrote. No chance I'll come back to this one. Sorry. Feel free to laugh and poke fun at this one. I would.  
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	10. What You Don't Know

_**Author's Note**: Harry Potter again. This one first appeared on my yahoogroup in July '07. It was heavily inspired by (translation: stolen from)__ amber-chick's "Reactions to the Legend." I just liked the idea of Sirius and Remus finding out how Harry's first couple of years at Hogwarts went. She went down the 'overprotective fluffy parent' route. I preferred to venture down the 'well-intended but poorly executed scheme' path.  
_

**SUMMARY:** Takes place at some unspecific time, most likely the middle of Harry's fifth year. Sirius and Remus haven't gotten straight answers on what sort of pranks or trouble Harry got into in his first couple of years. This is kinda **OLD** and **U****NFINISHED**. I'm not calling it abandoned, but who knows if let alone when it'll get finished. I'm posting as much here as was posted on my yahoogroup. If someone else wants to finish this, I'm more than happy to tell them where it was going. Though you can probably guess most of it.

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**WHAT YOU DON'T KNOW  
**

Remus took a whiff of the vile concoction. "Tell me again how you talked me into this."

"You know you want to hear about Harry's first two years as much as I do," Sirius explained. "Dumbledore was no help, and Harry just keeps changing the subject. This is the best way!"

"Tricking him into telling us is not good godfatherly behavior. This is your harebrained idea. You should be the girl!"

"Oh come on Moony," Sirius whined. "I'm the pureblood _secretly_ _real_ bestest best friend with harebrained ideas. You're the smarts and voice of reason. Of course you're the girl."

Remus frowned. "Prongs told me I was his _secretly_ _real_ bestest best friend."

"Yeah," Sirius shrugged. "I used that on Peter too, so… whoops."

Remus shook his head, pinched his nose and drank his first dose of polyjuice.

Sirius did the same and the two of them had to steady themselves as their bodies shrunk.

"Ouch, I forgot how much uncontrolled transformations hurt," Sirius remarked feeling sensations that reminded him of when he was just learning the animagus transformation.

"I didn't," Remus wryly commented. He turned to look in the mirror. "Merlin, I have a lot of hair."

"Wow," Sirius said noticing how much they both had changed. "So she must use a lot of product to make it look, you know, human."

Remus looked over and saw Ron Weasley in Sirius' place. "You think if I electrocuted myself it could possibly get any frizzier?"

Sirius shrugged. "Well, if you ever need a place to store an extra quill or two."

"Oh Padfoot, we should stop this," Remus scolded. "She's just going through her awkward stage. Let's stop picking on your godson's best friend."

"My name is Ron," Sirius reminded. "And you're Hermione. Act like it."

Remus had transfigured his robe to match his size and stuck his hand high up into the air. He made small grunting sounds trying to attract attention.

"What are you doing?"

Remus dropped his arm and put his hands on his hips. "Honestly, Harry."

"Hey," Sirius grinned. "That's pretty good."

"Alright," Remus urged. "Let's see your Ron."

Sirius shook his arms, staring at the floor. He looked up right at Remus with his mouth open in surprise. "Crikey! Blimey! The Chudley Cannons still suck."

Remus shook his head and crossed his arms. "Honestly."

"Alright let's go," Sirius grinned. "You got your flask right?"

Remus huffed. "Of course I do, Ronald. Now let's get this over with so I can hurry back and do some extra homework."

"Okay that's just a little creepy now," Sirius commented, sticking his own flask into his pocket. "You've not been perving on your old students, have you?"

"Stay in character before I threaten you with rules and authority!"

Sirius rolled his eyes in a manner he'd seen Ron do many times, muttered "Barmy," and hurried off towards the hospital wing.

"Harry," Sirius poked the sleeping young man. "Wake up Harry!"

Harry rolled over and looked up. "Ron? What's going on? Is Snuffles looking for me?"

Sirius stopped and turned to Remus for help.

"He's fine, Harry," Remus answered in Hermione's calming tone. "We just need to talk to you."

"Hermione?" Harry said sitting up, fully awake now. "What is it? What's the matter?"

Sirius growled. "It was the greasy git."

"He's a Professor and it wasn't him," Remus scolded, slapping Sirius on the shoulder. He turned to Harry and lectured, "We got covered in a messed up potion. Neither Ron nor I remember anything from first and second year. Even the last two are a bit fuzzy. Madame Pomfrey gave us permission to talk to you. See if you could trigger our memories or at least fill in the blanks."

"You don't remember anything?"

Sirius shrugged helplessly. "Not much, mate. We just thought you could go through our first couple years and tell us-"

"Remind us," Remus corrected.

"Yeah that too," Sirius said. "Starting from you know, when you first met us. Or earlier if you want."

Harry rubbed his hands over his face. "Are you serious?"

"What?" Sirius said jerking up in surprise.

Remus smacked him on the back on his head. "Just pretend that we're reminiscing. Only you're doing all the talking."

"Alright," Harry said before taking a deep breath. "Well you helped me onto the platform but we spent the entire ride talking to each other. Although, you probably spent more time staring at my scar than anything."

Remus smacked Sirius again. "You insensitive prat. You know how he feels about all the Boy-Who-Lived stuff."

"I was eleven," Sirius defended.

"Yeah really Hermione," Harry argued. "And he didn't know how I felt about the Boy-Who-Lived stuff. Besides, when we met you, you were basically as much of an uppity bitch as an eleven year old could be."

"Oh," Remus said sitting. "Sorry bout that."

Harry waved the supposed Hermione off. "Don't worry about it. Being best friends means never having to say you're sorry for being an uppity bitch."

"So nothing all that exciting on the train ride?" Sirius asked. "Besides making friends with me, of course."

Harry shook his head. "Some chocolate frogs, you recited some bad poetry and thought it was a spell, Malfoy's first annual visit, and Hermione dropped by trying to locate Neville's toad." Harry scratched his head. "No one tried to kill me the whole trip."

Remus' eyes widened and he glanced over at the imitation Ron. He saw the startled look on Sirius' face. "Keep going, Harry."

"Course Wormtail was asleep so maybe things could've been different." Harry chuckled not noticing how his audience had stiffened at the name. "I just remembered he was called a stupid fat rat in Ron's fake spell. Anyways, after the train ride, we caught up with Hagrid. He'd scared the other firsties, but I already liked him. He took us across the lake, dropped us off at McGonagall. Neville's toad was found while she put on her intimidating and stern face and lectured us on the house system. None of this is ringing any bells?"

Remus put a hand on Sirius to stop him from talking and said, "Those all sound familiar but they seem logical. I don't remember my sorting at all even though I know a singing hat did it. Did we ever tell you about our sortings or maybe you could tell us what yours was like?"

"Oh good," Sirius agreed. "Yeah, Harry?"

"I was so bloody nervous and still impressed the Great Hall looked like a convertible that I barely noticed you getting sorted into Gryffindor," Harry said pointing at Remus. "When they called my name, the whispers and pointing all started. The hat dropped on my head and began talking, telling me how well I'd do in Slytherin-"

Sirius gasped and slapped his hand over his mouth.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "That was how I felt about it too. It was saying I could be great and Slytherin would help me on the way to greatness. But I'd heard from Hagrid that Slytherins were evil, you drilled it into my head, and I'd met Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley before his pompous little train visit. So I was just begging, 'Not Slytherin, Not Slytherin,' over and over until the hat shouted 'Gryffindor!' Thank fucking God."

"Watch your mouth, young man," Remus snapped in irritation, before correcting himself, "I mean… _Language_!"

"He was nearly put in Slytherin though," Sirius pleaded. "I'll second ya, Harry. Thank fucking God."

"Anyways," Harry grinned. "The whole Gryffindor table cheered my name, and your twin brothers were chanting 'We got Potter! We got Potter!' which was embarrassing to say the least. I watched your sorting," Harry said pointing towards the wizard who looked like Ron. "It took a minute but like every Weasley you were put in Gryffindor which made my night, since you were already my best friend."

Sirius smiled and flashed a thumbs up.

"Though to be honest, I've always suspected the hat almost stuffed you into Hufflepuff," Harry added. "Considering it almost condemned me to Slytherin and we all know it had to be close to putting you," Harry pointed towards Remus, "into Ravenclaw."

"Well I for one," Remus said sticking his nose into the air, "am glad it put us all in Gryffindor."

Harry nodded seriously. "Tell me about it. I don't even want to think about how many times I would've died if it weren't for you two."

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat not liking the sound of that one bit.

Remus looked as worried as Sirius and asked, "What do you mean would have died?"

"Well hell," Harry said scratching his head. "There was the troll that I jumped on the back of and jammed my wand up its nose, the jinxed broom I was holding onto with only three fingers, Fluffy the giant three-headed dog, the Devil's Snare, the violent life-sized chess, and of course Norbert, Hagrid's pet dragon was a handful."

"What!" Sirius shouted. "You've almost died that many times?"

Harry looked at Sirius funny. "Those are just the ones you two helped me with."

Remus swallowed the lump in his throat, beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea.

"And that's just first year," Harry added. "There was also the detention in the Forbidden Forest where I found Voldemort drinking unicorn's blood, I almost got addicted to the Mirror of Erised, and of course Professor Quirrell keeping Voldemort hidden under his turban trying to kill me and steal the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry saw both of his best friend's faces staring at him in abject horror.

"Oh," Harry remembered. "And I still think Wood was trying to kill me with his Quidditch practices, but that one's not quite so malevolent as Quirrell and Voldemort." Harry paused and added, "Or the troll." He then remembered also, "Or Fluffy."

Sirius was beginning to hyperventilate, while Remus was rubbing circles into his back. "Breathe, Ron, breathe."

"You okay, mate?" Harry asked with a grin.

"And I stayed your friend after all that?" Sirius asked curiously.

"All that?" Harry smiled happily. "Compared to second year, our first year was a piece of cake."

Sirius shuddered and crawled into the bed next to Harry. "I think I need to lie down."

.o0o.

**_TBC…maybe. Unlikely, but maybe._**

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**UNFINISHED (AND PERHAPS ABANDONED)**

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_**Author's Note**: If anyone wants to take a crack at finishing this one, send me a message. I'll let you know what I had planned and you can go that route or go your own. Again, the idea was HEAVILY inspired by "Reactions to the Legend" by amber-chick. It's on this website. Very fluffy and an enjoyable read but appears abandoned.  
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	11. My 'Ginny Kill Off' Entry

_**Author's Note**: This is a Harry Potter ficlet from shortly after I joined DLP (Jan' 06)__. That's a forum that's really not for everyone. And back then, it was something of a rite of passage that you come up with a new way to kill Ginny Weasley. I'll tell you right now, if you're a fan of Ginny Weasley, don't read this. And don't go to DLP. Seriously, just don't. This is pointless bashing.  
_

**THE RULES OF THE GINNY KILL OFF ARE:**

Must be graphic.  
Must be funny.  
Cannot be over 2500 words.  
And Finally...  
The Most important rule of all...  
GINNY... MUST...DIE!!!

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**A GINNY KILL OFF ENTRY  
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"Ginny dear," Arthur called out to his only daughter. "Come see what Harry gave me for Christmas!"

Ginny felt the itching, burning sensation she always did whenever anyone mentioned Harry Potter. "Whoa! What is that thing?"

"I think it's called a... _long mower_?"

"A long mower? What's it do?"

Arthur looked at the curious muggle invention. "It's the most amazing thing! It's a contraption that cuts your hair for you!" Arthur was shaking his head. "The things muggles come up with."

"_That_? Cuts hair?"

Arthur nodded fervently and happily. "Oh yeah, look at the back of my head." Arthur turned away to show off his new haircut. "Just trimmed myself a couple minutes ago."

Ginny looked at the uneven cut warily. "Looks like it got a little close on the top."

Arthur blushed. "Well, yes... it was my first attempt at using it. And I believe it is meant to be operated by someone else, not the person receiving the hair cut."

Ginny smiled. "You think?"

Arthur shrugged. "Yes well, obviously it's not impossible to cut your own hair with it, as I did manage it, even if it isn't quite even. But you have much more control maneuvering it on someone else's head, I'm sure."

"You want to cut my hair, don't you Dad?" Ginny mock pouted.

Arthur nodded. "Yes, sweetie. I would. Your mother outright refuses to let me use any more muggle contraptions with her ever since that incident with the AccuJack 3000." Arthur shook his head. "I still don't understand how to play jacks right."

Ginny smirked. "And just what would I get out of this?"

"Besides a gorgeous and free new haircut?" Arthur argued. "I'll... I'll let you use it anytime. You can give all your friends haircuts and charge them two sickles! You'll be a galleonaire in no time!"

Ginny frowned trying to count all of her friends and was stuck on one. "No deal. You'd let me use it anytime, anyways. How about this: I'll let you give me a haircut, if you help me get some alone time with Harry?"

Arthur smiled. "Is he finally noticing my beautiful daughter?"

Ginny sighed. "No but I figure if I blow him enough times, he's bound to look down at least once."

"La la la!" Arthur screamed with his hands over his ears. "Gin-gin! Don't say things like that! I don't want to think about your thin colorless lips, and breastless bony pale body acting all grown-up!"

Ginny looked down at her complete lack of tit. She held back her tears. "Well? Deal or not? You do your best to get me some alone time with Harry, I'll not tell you anything about what happens, and you can cut my hair with your long mower?"

Arthur sighed and mock huffed. "You drive a hard bargain. But... DEAL!"

Ginny squeed in joy and dropped down to the ground sticking her head under the long mower.

"Hold on to your shirt, honey!" Arthur informed her. "It gets pretty noisy and windy down there."

Ginny crossed her arms and closed her eyes.

Arthur fired up the long mower, getting the massive blades spinning exceedingly fast. He carefully maneuvered over his daughter's head and slowly lowered it down, shearing away those long red tresses. The blades let out a high pitched squeal and there was a massive splat and explosion of blood.

"Oh dear," Arthur sighed. He hurriedly turned off the mower and looked at the carnage that went shooting out the 'hair dispenser' side of the long mower. "I did it again."

"Daddy!"

"I'm sorry Gin-gin. Another garden gnome got sucked into the long mower," Arthur said before looking at his daughter. "But wow! Your hair looks great!"

Ginny wiped the pieces of garden gnome off her face and hugged her father. "Oh thank you, Daddy!"

"Go on in and show your mother! And wash up for dinner." Arthur ordered. "Guess we're having gnome-loaf tonight."

* * *

After a delicious meal involving the highest quality meat the Weasleys could afford, the happy family settled in for the cold winter night. Young Ginny Weasley, snuck downstairs exactly forty minutes after she heard her parents go to bed. She knew her dad's woodshed had silencing spells on it, as her mother couldn't stand the sound of his tinkering, so she wheeled the long mower back into chilly shed. She quickly pulled off her nightrobes and fired up the long mower.

"Finally, I can shave my gnarly pubes."

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**THE END  
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_**Author's Note**: I know, I broke the most important rule by ending the fic before the money shot. But you can imagine it better than I can write it. And I like ending it right where readers first picture that image.  
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	12. Oedipus Hex

_**Author's Note**: This is another Harry Potter that I posted some to my yahoogroup in February of '07__. This is **UNFINISHED**. Not calling it abandoned because I like this idea and think it's got a lot of potential. But the meat of the bunny that inspired me is pretty much all covered in this first 5700 words here. And where it would likely go from here is somewhat predictable (anytime Voldemort's alive, you can guess where most Harry Potter fics are going). Probably in a style and tone similar to BajaB's excellent Dark Marauder fic. Well, maybe not that dark._

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**OEDIPUS ****HEX (PATERNAL ISSUES CANNOT ALWAYS BE BLAMED ON DARK LORDS)**

"Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck!"

Ron saw Hermione was shocked into a stupor at their best friend's announcement and tried to help her out. "Language?" Ron half-scolded and half-asked.

"Fuck!" Harry retorted.

Hermione let out an eep of indignation. Ron got the feeling he didn't want to know but asked anyway. "What's the matter, mate?"

"We're fucked! We're all fucked! Chainsaw, sideways, double dildo fucked!"

"As much as Hermione might secretly like that idea," Ron said dodging the young woman's swipe. "Can you give us a little more information than that?"

"Voldemort killed the aurors," Harry explained. "All of them."

"_Fuck_," Ron admitted in shock.

"What?" Hermione gasped no longer concerned with their choice of words.

"Yeah, exactly," Harry answered with wide unblinking eyes. "It was a total bloodbath. And the best part? You know how he did it? He did it because he's fucking immortal! One hundred percent death impervious fucking immortal!"

"No," Hermione said shaking her head. "It's not possible."

"Oh it gets better," Harry continued in a daze. "When his body gets destroyed and he's a floating spirit, my connection to him is clearer than a fucking telephone. He pulled me with him when he possessed Robards. The supposed Head Auror called for a full meeting, locked them all in, and just killed them all, possessing whoever was left alive after they were forced to kill whichever body he was in."

"Tonks? Shacklebolt?" Hermione asked fearfully.

Harry just shook his head. "When it was done, he still had enough power to magic himself a new body. No fucking rebirth ritual needed."

"Well that sucks," Ron admitted.

"I'd have to agree with ya there, mate," Harry nodded at his friend's gift for understatement. "Whatever he did and however he did it, changed our connection," Harry finished while tapping on his scar.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I mean it doesn't hurt anymore," Harry assured her. "I know I told you Occlumency managed to make the pain go away, but I was fudging a bit. It was a constant little ache. Now, nothing. But when he was bodiless, I could barely move. When he pulled me with him, I couldn't get out. He tried to possess me and it hurt the fucker, but he'll probably try again."

Ron saw Hermione's thoughtful look and Harry's wide freaked out eyes. "Well on the bright side the prophecy does say vanquish, not kill. So the fact that he's immortal doesn't really change anything."

Harry turned to Ron, noticing Hermione was lost trying to remember something she read probably years ago. "That's not a very bright, bright side."

"Well, your scar doesn't hurt anymore," Ron tried. "Is that any brighter?"

"Not really," Harry said with a wince. "Before my scar was occasionally slightly helpful, but generally a pain in the ass. Now it's a serious fucking liability. I don't think he knows how stuck I get when he's bodiless, but it's not something we can just avoid. I'm guessing it'll come up if I gotta vanquish the fucker."

"Bollocks," Ron sighed. "Don't suppose there's any way to get rid of that scar?"

Harry shook his head. "I'd carve the top of my head off if it'd help. But Dumbledore told me there was nothing that could be done."

Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip and saw both of her best friends turn to her. "Well… that's not… _entirely_ true."

"Explain," Harry snapped.

"Well, okay," Hermione paused. "Way back in fifth year, after his resurrection, when your scar really started going off and causing problems I did some research on Curse Scars."

"Shocker," Ron snidely mumbled.

"Not a lot is known about true Curse Scars," Hermione continued after glaring pointlessly at Ron. "Lots of people have scar tissue as the result of hexes and curses, but a real Curse Scar comes from heavy magic in unique circumstances. The scars themselves have magical properties and cause problems beyond simply an inability to heal. The way yours responds is pretty indicative that it's the real deal."

Harry glanced at Ron and back at Hermione. "Do we look like we're five? How about getting to the good stuff?"

"Fine. One of the Heads of the Department of Mysteries wrote a journal investigating them. He discovered they were marks not just on the body but on the soul. People afflicted by them would cut off their legs with a scar on their knee, and any replacement leg magically came with the scar. Even going around one-legged on crutches they were still forced to deal with the effects as if it were still there."

"How's the bright side looking now?" Ron asked Harry with a grin.

Hermione huffed. "The point is Director Bartock had been kidnapped and used against his will in a ritual. He was left with several large disfiguring gashes across his chest _that was a real Curse Scar_. He theorized that as a mark on the soul, undergoing a pure cleansing ritual would remove the scar."

"Wait," Harry stated. "You're saying all along, I could have just gone through this cleansing ritual and my scar would be gone?"

"Not necessarily," Hermione explained. "Bartock explained how two fundamentally opposed ideas were coming into contact. It's accepted that real Curse Scars cannot be healed, nor can they be removed. It's also accepted that a proper pure cleansing ritual always removes every taint of unnaturalness. Bartock wasn't sure what would happen when these two diametrically opposed fundamental rules of magic would collide."

"Well if you're telling me this, I'm assuming he succeeded?" Harry inquired.

Hermione sighed and shrugged. "That's just it. He documented what he was going to do it, aware that a miscalculation could kill him. And…"

"And?" Ron asked impatiently.

"And no one ever heard from him again," Hermione finished. "But the theory is sound and there are no indications he died."

"Aside from no one ever hearing from him again?" Ron repeated.

"Well," Hermione winced. "With the Department of Mysteries that's not exactly an uncommon event. And they supposedly have ways to tell the difference between dead and not dead. Or so I'm told."

Ron glanced over at Harry and saw his staring intently at Hermione. "What do you think, mate?"

Harry's bottom jaw was twitching but he didn't move otherwise.

"Mate?"

Hermione's eyes went wide as she touched Harry's face and he didn't seem to respond other than some repeated blinking. "Oh no! I think Voldemort's gone bodiless again. Remember he said he couldn't move when he-"

Ron reached over and slapped Harry across the cheek as hard as he could. "Snap out of it!"

Harry's head just slowly turned towards Ron, shivering and twitching. He slowly, stumbled out the word, "D- d- don't."

"Sorry," Ron said with a grin and a shrug. "Was worth a try."

"Oh!" Hermione said thinking about Harry's limited movement. She scrambled around the room locating a few spare bits of parchment and a quill. "Maybe you can move enough to write if you can't speak."

Harry's hand closed around the quill just as his eyes flashed red. His arm came up suddenly and he slammed the quill straight down into his upper thigh. "Yeah!" Harry cheered. "Take that, ya bitch!"

The quill dug in deep as blood first spurted and then began to stream down his leg as Harry continued digging it into his leg.

Harry saw Ron and Hermione looking at him oddly as he panted and was sweating profusely. "I got loose from him!" Harry saw he was still twisting and spinning the quill stabbed into his thigh. "Oh… that's a lot of blood."

"Harry?" Hermione asked warily, stepping closer to him. She carefully took the quill out of Harry's hand who was sheepishly handing it back to her.

"Whoops," Harry said jerking up straighter. "Spoke too soon." Harry's eyes rolled back up into his head as he fell over onto the floor. He began to shake and convulse, while his jaw was clenched shut clearly in pain.

"What are we going to do?" Hermione shrieked. "Ron! We have to do something!"

"_Stupefy_," Ron lazily incanted pointing his wand towards their bleeding best friend. "How about you try healing that leg?"

"Oh," Hermione said gratefully, once again cursing her propensity for panicking. "Good point."

* * *

"You're sure about this?" Hermione repeated. "I mean we don't know what's going to happen."

"I think he's asleep, but we don't have much time. We have to try this," Harry explained.

"I know, it's just… I worry about you," Hermione argued.

"Couldn't you have worried about me before I got naked and into the ritual circle?"

"Yes well," Hermione sighed. "Ginny fogged up the viewing glass in the next room."

"Ginny? What's she doing here?"

"She heard you were going to be naked."

"You know what she-"

"She agreed no cameras," Hermione interrupted. "But anyways… be careful."

"You're sure I can't use my glasses? Everything's so blurry without them."

"We can't risk any foreign influence at all. No clothes, no magic, no glasses." She glanced at her watch as it started beeping. "Fifty-seven seconds to midnight, Harry. Good luck." She hugged him quick and ran out of the room, sealing the chamber shut.

"We're all here, mate," Ron letting the chamber's acoustics carry his voice. "Thirty seconds."

Harry took a deep breath and lined up the blade to his wrist.

"Five seconds. Mark."

Harry sliced across his veins on his left wrist, put the dagger into his mouth, and ran his right wrist down the exposed side of the blade slicing it freely and spurting blood into his eye. With his two cut and bleeding wrists pressed together, he could feel himself dizzying and losing consciousness.

A gong sounded indicating the final stroke of midnight and Harry opened both hands pressing them into the indentations on the ritual floor. The blood continued to seep out his wrists and pooling into the intricately carved designs around him. He felt the magic in the chamber flaring up and swirling down, almost as if it were indecisive.

There was a moment of stillness where he swore he could see with clarity. He saw the viewing window to the chamber. Ginny's eyes were wide just staring in worry. Hermione was chewing on her fingernails and looked to be extremely antsy. And Ron was making a face at him, sticking out his tongue. Harry vaguely realized without his glasses he'd never have been able to see them that clearly when suddenly he felt his eyes roll backwards into his head and he was watching his own insides. He saw blood, guts, tissues, and organs, none of which he knew barely anything about, but they seemed to be shrinking and cleaning themselves up.

None of it hurt, but he was reminded immediately of the queasiness of polyjuice potion wearing off. His body shape before didn't seem so foreign as much as the newer shape just felt right. His senses were sharpening as magic swirled and tingled around him. The wind and magic was flowing upward, inducing a sensation of falling from heaven, after having been righted along his misbegotten path. Suddenly, his entire body jerked to a vicious stop and he felt like he'd been slammed right into a wall.

There was a calm in the air as Harry sensed only quiet and whiteness blinding him all around. His body felt supremely changed and foreign, almost stilted in some ways. When suddenly, the purity of the white light surrounding him, shifted and darkened into a sickly familiar neon green color. He was screaming in response but it sounded strange coming out of his mouth.

Harry's eyes blinked away the whiteness trying to adjust to the room and what looked like a wooden cage, when he felt a violent lurch in his back. His forehead slammed into his knees as his spine suddenly grew from infant-sized to fully-formed, faster than the rest of his body could keep up. His bones snapped, breaking themselves and reforming into the shape they wanted to take. He was losing a lot of blood as his raw skin was being stretched and tearing free to allow masses of muscle and tissue to fill in where there didn't use to be any. The weakened structure he was on collapsed under the weight of his thrashing, as his body was broken and reformed feeling the pain of fresh skin tearing and healing repeatedly.

Harry's violent transformation finally covered enough of his lower intestines to function, and he quickly vomited up what little food had been in his stomach.

His blurry vision was slowly returning and he spotted a redheaded woman, lying on her back, clearly dead.

Harry's eyes couldn't focus without his glasses, but he knew this wasn't the ritual chamber anymore. It was then that he heard a voice he'd recognize anywhere behind him.

"_What sort of magic is this!_"

Harry rolled away from his pile of puke and back onto the broken wooden shards that were cutting into his back.

Sure enough standing right over Harry aiming his wand straight at the naked young man was the Dark Lord Voldemort looking more normal than he had in twenty years, by Harry's count.

Harry quickly realized the wooden structure he'd destroyed was a baby's crib and that redhead laying dead was not something to be dwelling on right now. "Wait, Tom, quick question!" Harry called out raising his hand. "Did you just hit me with a killing curse?"

The Dark Lord reacted on instinct to the curse he always favored when threatened. "_Avada Keda-_"

Harry was grateful for such a long incantation as he grabbed a handful of puke and had thrown it into Voldemort's face before he could even get the spell off.

A sharp burst of forced magic slammed into where he'd been, but Harry had already leapt into motion. He rolled straight over to his mother's still warm dead body, and grabbed the wand lying on the ground next to her. He aimed towards the blur that was Voldemort and let loose an emotion fueled blasting curse.

The Dark Lord called a shield up in time to block the spell, but was unprepared for the power behind it. Voldemort, shield and all, went crashing into the wall behind him.

Voldemort was a big fan of being in control of the situation and this was about the last thing he expected after killing the Potters and casting a Killing Curse on their baby. He snarled and hissed another spell towards this freak of magic.

Harry wordlessly deflected the spell with ease and sent another blasting curse this time at the ground beneath the Dark Lord's feet.

Voldemort jumped back and managed to keep himself from falling into the large gaping hole in the ground that led downstairs.

Seeing an opportunity, Harry did what he does naturally. Leaping before looking, he bodily tackled the Dark Lord sending them both careening down the stairs. Harry slammed an elbow into the Dark Lord's face, breaking his nose. Harry chuckled thinking he managed another impossibility considering his more recent nose-less state, and was caught in the back with an off-aim wandless banishing charm.

It was enough to send Harry into the wall, as their battle had descended to the first floor.

Voldemort suddenly realized he'd lost track of his wand in their tumble down the stairs. He looked up in time to see a navy blue curse go zipping right past head, and shatter the window behind him.

Another spell went wide of the mark and Voldemort quickly summoned James Potter's wand. He jumped up from behind his cover loudly imposing his will as he cast, "_Imperio_!"

Harry allowed the spell to wash over him, knowing how his will matched up to the Dark Lord's.

"Give me my wand," Voldemort ordered angrily while the wand he was using seemed to be fighting the magic flowing through it.

Harry had snapped himself free of the spell, immediately, but wasn't letting on to that fact. He made a show of pretending to be fighting the command, while subtly transfiguring a spoon he'd located to resemble the Dark Lord's yew wand that he remembered.

"Give it to me!" Voldemort insisted fiercer.

Harry slowly stood up straighter, as if acquiescing and tossed the fake wand at the Dark Lord.

Voldemort's eyes followed his wand spinning in the air toward him before noticing a bright red spell slice through the wand at ten times the speed. It impacted his forehead before he could even react cracking his skull in a large burst of blood.

"Give me my Dad's wand first, you psychotic bastard!" Harry called back as he began to send bludgeoning curse after bludgeoning curse at the Dark Lord.

Voldemort lifted his arm up to cast a shield when a spell hit him right in the shoulder spinning his entire body around and losing the grip on the wand. Another spell crashed into his exposed back and sent him to the floor again. He could hear flow of spells coming and did the only thing he could. He ran.

Harry was chasing after him, but unable to see clearly. He kept firing as the Dark Lord ran away. "Go on! Get out of here, you fucking wanker!"

The Dark Lord knew the apparition wards ended at the tree line and was headed straight there.

"You pussy!" Harry screamed at him. "You scared chicken shit little pussy!"

"Whoa!" a voice called out from behind him as he arrived silently on his flying motorcycle. "James! James!"

Harry spun around and saw the blurry form of his godfather. He just stared at him silently for a moment as the adrenaline left his body. He fought the desire to just collapse and sleep now.

"Wardrobe malfunction?" Sirius asked curiously. "And who was that you sent running?"

Harry suddenly remembered he was naked and summoned a robe from the house. He continued panting unable to hold on to his breath.

Sirius took a closer look at the man in front of him and saw the blood on his body. "Prongsy, settle down. Now first, are they all gone?"

Harry nodded briefly before stopping and gritting his teeth. "Wormtail!" He rasped yelling towards the darkened tree line. "I'm gonna kill you Wormtail!"

"What about Lily? And Harry?" Sirius insisted suddenly catching on to the pressing situation. "Are they okay?"

Harry just shook his head sadly and turned back towards Godric's Hollow. "Aww… fuck."

"Whoa!" Sirius said stepping closer. "Your eyes… they're green?"

Harry turned to Sirius and was going to answer when they heard the whoosh of a portkey arrival.

Albus Dumbledore arrived with Rubeus Hagrid in tow, his wand up and alert. "James? Sirius? What's happened?"

Harry did not want to be under the microscope of the most controlling man he knew and answered. "Battle's over. He ran. Why don't you guys call the aurors, and I'll go get Lily and… Harry's bodies."

Albus' eyes widened and stepped forward. "My boy, you are in shock."

"No," Harry shook his head. "Surprisingly I don't think I am. Just get the aurors please."

Sirius put a hand on Harry to stop him. "James? You know you're an auror? Why don't you just call them?"

Harry halted immediately thinking that was an impressively quick screw-up. "Right. Umm… how would I call them again?"

Sirius looked towards Harry's bare wrists. "Just use your bracelet badge. You didn't take it off, did you?"

"I must have," Harry said scratching his head. "Sorry. I hit my head pretty hard and managed to get my eyes all messed up."

"I will alert the aurors," Albus said trying to calm the situation. "Hagrid can retrieve your family."

"No!" Harry insisted. "No, that's okay. I mean there's been a fight, it's all messy, there's big puddle of my puke on the floor and a little on the wall. We're just not prepared for company right now. I'll take care of it," Harry finished and turned back to run towards the cottage.

Hagrid, Sirius, and Albus all watched the distraught young man sprint towards his house, completely missing the last step up and flying face first into the open front door.

"I'm all right!" Harry yelled loudly as he scrambled over to his father's dead body. He hurriedly located the disillusioned bracelet on his dad's wrist and transferred it onto his own. He tried on his father's glasses and found they actually made his vision even worse. He glanced outside and saw a large blur he assumed was Hagrid walking towards the tree line while Sirius and Albus stood in the same spot.

"Sorry about this Dad," Harry whispered. "But I'm pretty sure you understand."

He transfigured his father's body into that of a fifteen month old baby. He felt even guiltier levitating his mother's body down the stairs, thinking he was demeaning her sacrifice by hiding its success. Even still, he was confident they'd both approve.

Harry silently blasted his father's glasses, and magically wrapped up his transfigured father and mother together tightly. Harry came walking out the front door and saw Albus and Sirius watching him.

"Got them," Harry said way too cheerfully as he flashed a thumbs-up. "I really need to get some new glasses though. Maybe some colored contacts."

"Colored contacts?" the easily distracted Headmaster repeated. "What are those?"

"Oh crap," Harry said realizing they probably hadn't even been invented yet, let alone may be too muggle for his father to have known. "Never mind. Just still a little loopy up here."

Sirius had hurried over to the wrapped bodies, and peeled off the top layer. He gasped and stepped back, having previously hoped that it wasn't true.

"You okay, Sirius?" Harry asked curiously.

Sirius turned to look at him. "Am I okay? What's wrong with you! This is my godson. This is your wife and child!"

Harry turned to Albus and back at Sirius simply nodding in agreement. "That's right."

Albus put both of his hands on Harry's shoulder. "James. You're not alright. You're in shock."

"Really, I'm okay. To be honest," Harry gestured towards the bodies. "I made my peace with their deaths. My family loves me and wants me to move on. I'm ready to do that."

"Ooh!" Harry called out hearing the sound of apparition just beyond the wards. "There are the aurors."

Harry pointed Voldemort's wand at the two wrapped corpses and began to levitate them behind him as he walked towards the aurors.

Sirius had been holding onto them and was currently being dragged while Albus' eyes widened in surprise having recognized that wand.

Harry stopped suddenly and turned around. "The aurors report to their department head, who reports to the Minister, right?" Harry didn't give them a chance to answer, before continuing. "But the Unspeakables can be fully independent. And they don't have to reveal their secrets to any department, right?"

"What?" Sirius questioned from his place on the ground.

"Yes, I should talk to the Heads of the Department of Mysteries," Harry mused aloud, suddenly feeling a strong imposing presence flaring up.

Albus had drawn his wand and wasn't pointing it at James, but keeping it very close. "Where did you get that wand?"

Harry turned to look at the yew wood with a phoenix feather core. "This? This is Voldemort's. I got it off him when I tackled him down the stairs and broke his nose with my elbow."

"He was here?" Sirius said looking around for danger.

"You saw him," Harry pointed out. "I was chasing him when you showed up."

"That?" Sirius paused and turned to Albus. "That was the Dark Lord? You called him a scared chicken shit little pussy."

"Well, he was running from me," Harry added offhandedly. "Though in his defense I had gotten his wand off him, cracked his skull open, and was pelting his entire body with bludgeoning jinxes. Things weren't exactly in his favor at that point."

Sirius turned to Albus. "Think St. Mungo's should check him out?"

"I'm telling you, considering the situation, I'm handling myself quite well," Harry snapped. "You know what, though? Sirius, you should probably come with me to the Unspeakables. Albus, thanks for dropping by. I'm sure we'll be in touch. You can show yourself out. Come on, Sirius." Harry levitated the two wrapped bodies and hurried out past the apparition wards.

"Captain Potter," a nearby Auror greeted.

Harry glanced around really quick before making sure he was talking to him. "Sorry if I'm a bit hazy right now. My eyes got messed up. And I need to hurry somewhere." Harry picked up the wrapped bodies and held onto them. He stuck his hand out for Sirius, "Did you want to side-along?"

Sirius looked at him oddly and grabbed his hand.

With a quiet pop, they reappeared hidden behind the dumpsters across the street from the phone booth leading to the Ministry.

"Why are we here?" Sirius said looking left and right.

"The Department of Mysteries is in the Ministry. Level nine, if memory serves."

"If you've got your badge on you can apparate straight to your office," Sirius pointed out. "How hard did you hit your head?"

"Everything will make sense soon," Harry assured him. "For now, just trust me. Can you apparate us to my office?"

Sirius was watching Harry warily, clearly skeptical but trusting for now. "You're sure you have your bracelet badge on? I don't want the headache of bouncing off the wards."

Sirius apparated them straight into James Potter's sparsely decorated office. Harry levitated the bodies behind him while dragging Sirius to the lift. Harry hit the button to take him down to level nine.

"Is there something the Unspeakables can do?"

"I hope so."

Sirius paused and quietly asked, "Is Lily really dead?"

Harry turned to Sirius in surprise.

"I figure that prophecy has something to do with Harry and he's probably okay if we're going down there, but Lily I'm not so sure about."

Harry put his hand on Sirius' shoulder and squeezed it. "Lily sacrificed herself so that Harry could live."

They arrived at the floor and Harry led them back towards the circular room guarding the various subdivisions of the department.

"Auror Captain Potter," an Unspeakable greeted entering from a door on their left. "What are you doing here?"

"Get me your superior please," Harry calmly requested. "Or anyone with clearance for Omega Alpha Alpha secrecy."

"Omega Alpha Alpha?" the Unspeakable repeated doubtfully. "Did you just make that up?"

"Obviously you don't have clearance," Harry repeated. "Could you please alert the most senior official in the Department of Mysteries that you can immediately? Time is of the essence."

"Director Stepford may have time for you," the Unspeakable answered. "But this is highly unorthodox, Mr. Potter."

"I'll be waiting here with the bodies of my family," Harry said, patting the top of his wrapped packages.

The Unspeakable glanced at Sirius who looked just as confused as him.

A few quiet moments later, after Harry and Sirius were put into a secure room Director Stepford entered the room with another Unspeakable with him.

"Captain Potter, this is Bode, I'm Stepford. What can we do for you?"

"I have some extremely sensitive information that I want restricted to as few people as possible," Harry stated.

"Omega Alpha Alpha level?"

"Are we as secure as possible?"

"We're as secure as I'm willing to be for now."

"Is anyone else listening in prepared to obliviated of what they overhear or see?"

Stepford nodded. "Omega Alpha Alpha?"

Harry shrugged. "I find repeating words makes them sound more important."

"We're listening."

"I'm in a unique situation right now," Harry began after making sure Sirius wasn't looking too worried. "I would like to transfer from the Aurors to the Unspeakables and I want to be an independent agent answering only to the directors."

"And just why would we do something like that?"

"Because I'm the only one who can defeat the current Dark Lord," Harry explained. "And I currently have a massive advantage that is weakened significantly by Ministry red tape and the wrong people getting informed."

Stepford glanced at Bode and back at Harry. "As I understand it, Death Eaters or possibly the Dark Lord attacked you just this evening, killing your family."

Harry nodded. "That's correct. I am the last Potter."

"But you said," Sirius blurted out. "You said Harry was okay."

Harry smiled weakly at Sirius and turned to the Unspeakables. "Can we agree on a Code of Honor and Silence requiring a majority decision among the four of us?"

Stepford and Bode exchanged looks saying nothing aloud.

"I know you're fully capable of divining that I've only spoken the truth, so my comment that I'm the only one who can defeat the Dark Lord should be sufficient incentive."

Stepford inclined his head. He and Bode simultaneously said, "Agreed."

"Agreed," Harry repeated and turned to Sirius hopefully.

"Agreed," Sirius repeated feeling the slight flare of magic their wills agreed upon. "Though I'm completely lost as to why."

"However you're establishing truth from me, it's still working, right?"

Stepford nodded.

Harry took a deep breath and began, "Are you familiar with the stories of Director Bartock?"

Stepford sat back in curiosity and nodded at Bode. Bode answered, "He disappeared investigating Curse Scars."

"When two rules of magic collide they strive to find a way so they both remain true. The purity of the cleansing ritual meets the taint of a true Curse Scar. I can tell you what happened when I underwent the ritual just a little over an hour ago."

"But first," Harry paused and licked his lips. "I should tell you about my past. My name is Harry Potter and my parents were both killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort Halloween night, 1981, which for me was about twenty-one years ago."

"Harry?" Sirius tried out the name.

"Hi Sirius," Harry grinned.

"That's why your eyes are green," Sirius said smacking his forehead.

Bode smirked at Sirius. "So this makes sense to you now."

"Let me continue with the brief history of my life," Harry interrupted. "I should mention that my father tried to hold Voldemort off but failed. My mother used an ancient love protection, sacrificing herself to save me. This, coupled with a prophecy about the Dark Lord's downfall, meant that after he killed her, he then turned his wand on me and hit me with a Killing Curse."

Stepford pulled a small box out of his pocket and began poking it with his wand.

Harry chuckled. "Yes I'm still telling the truth. The Killing Curse rebounded off of me and reflected right into the Dark Lord's face, leaving me with only a lightning bolt scar on my head, marking me as the prophecy foretold."

"So they're dead," Sirius realized. "Lily and James are both dead."

Harry nodded. "Don't go freaking out on me. For me back then, you went after Pettigrew and managed to get yourself tossed in Azkaban without a trial.

"But I'm getting off track. The short of it is, the Dark Lord was expelled from his body and was less than spirit floating around until a dark ritual got him his body back again. My Curse Scar connected me to him in rather unpleasant ways. About two weeks ago, my time, he managed immortality and our connection got immensely stronger. And that was why I needed to try a cleansing ritual."

Stepford frowned. "I fail to see why you would need to become an independent Unspeakable agent."

"The cleansing ritual had to remove the taint of the Curse Scar," Harry continued. "But the Curse Scar can't be removed. These are at the core of our magical understanding. They both remain true because the magic brought me back into time just as the Curse Scar should have been made. It wasn't. Now I was wearing just a diaper a few hours ago before my bones all broke and shattered, reforming in the adult body that performed the ritual. Without my glasses or wand, I managed to break the Dark Lord's nose, shattered his skull, and I'm pretty sure I broke several ribs, while he ran scared for his life."

Bode glanced again at the box Stepford took out of his pocket.

"This is truth," Harry assured them. "Now he's scared of me, a prophecy states I'm the one with the power to vanquish him, and I have twenty years of potential future knowledge, including Death Eaters who may not even realize their Death Eaters yet. This isn't the sort of evidence that would do an auror who hates paperwork any good."

Stepford showed no emotion as he sat back and asked, "So where do you want to go from here?"

Harry bit his lip and saw Sirius was taking this better than expected. "Given the situation, I think the best thing for me would be to assume the life of my father. Auror James Potter becomes Unspeakable Potter. And I want Sirius, and probably Remus Lupin, to work with me."

"Why them?" Bode inquired. "Why not a trained Unspeakable?"

"I trust them, I know them," Harry admitted sadly, "And the fact of the matter is that I don't know much about my father."

"We're not going to let you go unaccompanied while representing our department," Stepford commented.

"I'm not looking to stop crime and catch criminals here," Harry retorted. "I'll confiscate illegal and dangerous things, destroy the ones I have to, and kill when I feel justified. I'm operating under wartime rules. I won't baby sit some by-the-book desk jockey."

"Our field agents are the most highly trained members of the Ministry," Bode argued calmly.

"Tell you what," Harry smirked at Sirius. "You find me an agent who can take me in a magical duel, we'll work with them. If you can't, you let us work alone."

Stepford glanced at Bode who just gave an inquiring look back. Stepford nodded at Harry, "Very well, Agent Potter. What next?"

.o0o.

**TBC… possibly.**

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**UNFINISHED  
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_**Author's Note**: If someone else wants to take off with this one, just let me know. And yes, if anyone does adopt one of my unfinished plans I will definitely pass along that news.  
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	13. I Got Soul But I'm Not A Soldier

_**Author's Note**: This is a **brand spanking new Harry Potter one-shot**. And it's weird. I don't remember how my mind went off onto tangents, but I think it was frustration at how similar so many HP fanfics and plots seem to be lately. So I wanted something I've never seen before. It's not really going anywhere, but I was hoping to make readers think. As usual, my mind ignores many of the details of book 6 and 7 (still haven't read the last two-thirds of DH). Thanks to Persy, Jim, and ZanyMuggle for the help.  
_

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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**I GOT SOUL BUT I'M NOT A SOLDIER**

Harry was drinking a beer, relaxing back in his favorite recliner.

He was reflecting on the joy of being a father. The good times always drowned out the bad. He wasn't sure how much credit he deserved, but Marvin was a great kid.

Harry's gut twisted in anxiety knowing that in some ways his life as a father was nearing its end. He swigged from the bottle to quell those thoughts.

He'd always known this day would come.

Marvin had been Head Boy, graduating top of his class at Hogwarts. After graduation he and three of his best mates went on two month long world tour. No girlfriends, no parents, just four young men hitting dozens of beaches, casinos, cruises, bars, shows, and dueling tournaments.

Today, Marvin was coming home and Harry was going to tell him all the things he'd been avoiding for the last eighteen years.

Harry sensed the activation of the floo and cast a pair of spells in front of the fireplace.

Marvin appeared feet first with a rucksack over his shoulder. He waved his wand to counter the first spell and neatly stepped over the affected area of the second.

"Dad," Marvin managed to greet with a smile before he was engulfed in a hug.

"You're looking great, Marv," Harry announced. "How was your trip?"

Marvin looked at him accusingly as he set his bag down. "Like you weren't checking on us constantly."

Harry snapped his fingers summoning their elf. She silently grabbed Marvin's bag and left a beer on the end table.

"I keep telling you it was coincidence that when you got arrested you were put in the Tijuana jail cell next to mine." Harry waved for his son to sit.

Marvin spotted the beer and sat on the edge of the couch directly opposite his father. "What's up?"

Harry took a long draw from the bottle and swallowed. He let the silence last until he realized he was making Marvin nervous. "It's time you and I have a talk."

Marvin looked up at his father hopefully. "Is this about my mother?"

"No," Harry answered immediately before correcting himself, "well… in a way. But… Tell me, how much do you know about when I defeated Voldemort?"

Marvin wasn't expecting that. "Only what'd been reported in the-"

"Marv."

"I know about horcruxes."

Harry smiled sadly having expected as much. "I figured. Luna or Hermione?"

"I got a lot of the details from Hermione after she somehow got convinced you told me about them."

Harry let out a small laugh. "Subtle."

"But she wasn't the one who told me about them in the first place."

"Luna?"

Marvin shook his head negatively.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

Marvin took a slow drink of beer before admitting. "The ghost of Snape."

"Snape?" Harry nearly yelled back. "Snape! I told you to stay away from him. I knew he was going to try to-"

Marvin was sheepishly nodding and speaking in unison with his father. "He was going to try to turn me dark. Yes, you were right. As usual."

Harry frowned thinking of all the times he was tempted to destroy that wretched ghost. He looked at his son appraisingly. "Didn't work, right?"

Marvin rolled his head in exasperation.

"Just checking," Harry apologetically explained with a smile. "So you know that the horcruxes were pieces of his soul that he put into things."

"And one of them nested in your noggin through the curse scar," Marvin urged. "What's this have to do with my mother?"

"Nothing," Harry replied cryptically. "And everything."

Marvin pouted. "You know it's cruel to play with my fragile emotions. This is my mother we're circuitously not talking about."

Harry knew his son was joking but felt there was some truth behind it. "Alright, well after I defeated him, I wasn't doing too well. You know I left Britain for a couple years?"

"You disappeared completely. Met Mom. Had me. I have some vague memories of our cabin in Canada. I remember Hedwig perched on my crib."

Harry frowned. "You've seen pictures. I doubt you actually remember-"

"She pooped in my mouth."

Harry recalled when the precocious infant had grabbed onto the sleeping owl's leg. "Okay, so you do remember."

"I've never had a memory of _her_," Marvin admitted.

"You wouldn't," Harry said with conviction. "Because what no one else in the world knows is that back when we destroyed Voldemort's horcruxes, I still hadn't figured out how to get the one out of my head."

"Dad," Marvin said sitting up straighter. He knew the possibility of Voldemort rising again would be horrendous.

"I know how to now," Harry calmly said. "But I didn't back then."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that after I killed Voldemort's body, I still had the final piece of his soul in me."

Marvin was trying to see where all this was going. He was getting more and more pieces of the puzzle but he still couldn't see how they fit together.

"I was afraid I'd have to fight some grand mental battle with him. I mean he was probably more skilled at possession than anyone in centuries. But when I struck him down, I felt his resistance and defiance die. My scar stopped hurting and it was like a great pressure was lifted from me."

Marvin nodded. "Yeah, that was the prophecy you don't believe in."

Harry had had many arguments on the merits and truth of prophecies with his son and decided to sidestep this one. "Thing is, the soul and the scar were still there. Like some benign inert metaphysical goop."

"You're always so poetic when you talk about souls," Marvin chided.

"Only it wasn't benign."

Marvin's attention was quickly drawn.

"It wasn't malevolent or influencing me in anyway. But the fact that it was there, tied to my own soul, was killing me."

Marvin snapped his fingers and the house elf dropped off a new bottle of beer next to each man.

Harry set his empty off to the side. A touch of magic and flip of his thumb popped the cap on the new beer. "That was why I left. I didn't want anyone to know. It would've been hard to hide and I needed privacy to figure a way out. It took me over a year."

Marvin was doing the math in his head. "That's when you met her, wasn't it? Did she help you figure it out?"

"No," Harry said solemnly, waiting until he had his son's attention. He held eye contact without blinking. "That's when I made you."

The bottle fell from Marvin's hand and spilled on the floor. "Excuse me?"

"I made you. I created you. I tampered with forces no mortal should approach."

"This isn't funny!"

Harry gestured with his wand, instantly cleaning the spilled beer and setting the bottle on the end table. He looked at his son earnestly. "I don't know what it is."

Marvin looked down at his suntanned arms and pinched himself. "You… _made_ me?"

"That's why I never-"

"Yup."

"And you-"

"Yup."

Marvin sighed. "You _made_ me."

Harry just sipped his beer giving his son time.

Marvin was running through every unexplained and mysterious thing that ever happened to him. After five minutes of silence, he finally asked, "Why?"

Harry gave him a comforting smile. "I'm simplifying things greatly but basically there was too much soul in me. The inert goop was assimilated in with the rest of my soul. Before it could leech out the connection, but after I destroyed the Voldemort side it had nowhere to go."

Marvin shook his head. "The soul isn't a physical entity. It's not like an overfilled inkpot."

"It can be split, it can be joined," Harry argued. "It can be touched and it can be read. Either way, my first plan was to destroy some of it until it was a healthy size."

Marvin looked at his father skeptically. "Were you going to murder someone?"

"No," Harry replied. "If I wanted to split it off properly and make a horcrux, I'd need a murder. But I just wanted to chip away at it."

"And your second plan?"

"Second plan was to murder someone," Harry jokingly admitted. "But both of those plans just felt inherently wrong. That's why my third plan went in a completely different direction."

Marvin was listening half-heartedly and thinking to himself.

"I had too much metaphysical and not enough physical. It was either get rid of some meta or add more physicality."

Marvin sipped his beer. "I have half your soul?"

"No," Harry corrected. "You are half our soul."

Marvin was tempted to call bollocks on the well-meaning but hollow reassurance.

"Look, I thought that making you would change who I am. Make me into a different person, maybe a different attitude. But the truth is, inside me, I didn't feel any different. I got healthy, better, and had a newborn son to raise." Harry paused, knowing what Marvin was thinking. "It's not like I'm the Harry Potter bit or you're the horcrux bit. We're both mutts. We are who we are."

"We're Potters," Marvin announced with a familiar depressed chuckle.

"That we most definitely are," Harry agreed, saluting his son with the bottle of beer.

Harry was letting his son absorb the news. He knew more questions would be coming.

Marvin saw how patient his Dad was acting. "There's more, isn't there?"

"Just details. Nothing that can't wait."

"No, no," Marvin insisted, shaking his finger. "No more secrets. I don't want to come to terms with my unnatural origins only to discover I've got a twin in a jar in the basement."

Harry looked at his son curiously. "You're taking this rather well."

"Occlumency," Marvin asserted. "And I may have been a little drunk when I got here."

Harry gave Marvin a knowing look.

"Which you obviously knew," Marvin agreed. "But you're still stalling."

Harry gave Marvin the same look.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Now as opposed to when you were eleven?" Harry shrugged helplessly. "Fifteen? Sixteen?"

Marvin liked to think he could have handled this but still suggested, "Or never? Do I need to know this?" Marvin blinked. "Who else knows this?"

"No one," Harry assured him. "Well, Luna might. I certainly never told her but it wouldn't surprise me. A couple of times I really wanted to tell her-"

"No," Marvin begged. "Please, let's not. I don't… I…"

"Relax," Harry soothingly insisted. "I always wanted you to be the first to know. And yes, I think you need to know this. You're out of school now, a fully qualified wizard. Time to join the real world a bit more. People will come after you as an adult now, and a pretty famous one at that."

"I've thanked you for the fame enough times I think," Marvin said with a grimace.

"And I wanted you to be able to protect yourself," Harry added.

"I can protect myself just fine," Marvin argued.

"Not as well as I can," Harry pointed out.

Marvin had seen the things his father could do with a wand. "No one can as well as you can."

"Shucks," Harry jibed. "You'll make me blush."

Marvin rolled his eyes knowing how little his father cared for his own magical accomplishments. Harry had always been ten times more excited when Marvin mastered a spell than when Harry created a revolutionary one. "So how exactly does learning I'm motherless help protect me?"

Harry took a sip of his beer. "Figure it out."

"Dad!"

Harry tried to hide how good it felt to still be called that. "Go on, Marv. You can do this."

Marvin sighed and grumpily took a swig of his beer. His father never missed an opportunity to keep him on his toes. He began wondering if there were specialized fields of soul magic available to him.

"Cold," Harry announced.

Marvin frowned. So not soul magic, maybe it was because this was information that was going to be used against them.

"Colder," Harry added.

Marvin fumed, "Will you stop…" Marvin paused as he realized his Occlumency shields hadn't even felt a tickle.

"Warmer," Harry admitted.

Marvin looked at Harry in shock and betrayal.

"Hot, hot," Harry cheered.

Marvin swore, "The bloody curse scar connection!"

Harry tapped his nose and pointed at his son victoriously.

"We can communicate through it?" Marvin frowned scrunching his face in concentration.

"Sure, I suppose. But that's not quite what I had in mind."

Marvin gasped. "You've been spying on me all my life!"

"No," Harry defended. "I easily could have, but I only used it in emergencies."

Marvin scoffed. "You expect me to believe that?"

"You will," Harry said with certainty. "Because I want you to know everything about our connection, how you were made, and how I feel about you."

"Let me just stew like a freak for a little longer," Marvin said.

Harry winced at the word. "Consider this: the connection cannot be blocked by normal Occlumency. It used to cause me so much pain and confusion. But that was because neither Voldemort nor I wanted to be connected. I've spent the better part of two decades figuring out ways to use it for mutually beneficial things if both sides were working together."

Marvin's eyes widened thinking unwise forces were being tampered with. "Oh Merlin. I really don't know want to know what you've figured out, do I?"

"I think you do," Harry said. "I think things will be much clearer as soon as we…"

"Dad," Marvin warned when Harry's voice trailed off. "Just what can our connection do?"

"We're two parts of the same soul," Harry explained. "I'd like you to manage to withhold your homo-erotic jokes for a second, but our soul or souls can join with minimal adverse affects."

"Our souls can join?" Marvin repeated.

"It'd only take a few seconds, but we'd have to join fully before dividing again."

Marvin looked disconcerted. "Did you make me with mitosis?"

"No," Harry said. "You were a baby and I was still me. I could explain it better, but ideally, I won't need to."

Marvin mimicked his father's knowing stare.

"The joining and dividing will have lasting effects."

Marvin didn't look surprised. "And just what sort of effects are those?"

Harry sighed and admitted. "I would know everything about your life. How you felt the first time you saw Hogwarts, what you smelled in second year that caused you to vanish your nostrils, what really happened to my old Firebolt, everything."

"That is so not fair!" Marvin pleaded. He shook his head. "There's no way we're doing the metaphysical nasty."

Harry winced knowing things would be so much simpler if they just didn't think that way. "You would also know everything about my life. Including everything I know about our connection, how to block that connection, how I made you, and probably a few spells you'd be better off not knowing."

Marvin blinked as he realized everything it would mean. "Better able to protect myself, eh?"

"You're an adult now, Marv. This is a decision only you can make. But in some ways, our lives will be starting over from the moment after we join. Everything from before then we'll know about each other. So I figure, if we're really going to do this, the sooner the better."

Marvin looked over at his father and knew he was being serious. "I need to think about this. You may be ready to rush headfirst in but I need to think about this."

Harry nodded as he stood up from his recliner. He walked behind his son and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You know if you have any questions…"

"Gee, you think I might?" Marvin muttered.

Harry patted him on the shoulder and left him alone in the room to think. "It's good to have you home."

Harry retrieved all the materials he needed and had begun preparing his master bathroom for a trance-induced joining.

The portrait of a Potter ancestor was watching curiously. "What are you doing?"

Harry raised a hand in the air and counted down from five. Right on cue, Marvin burst into the room. "Let's do it." He saw Harry was setting up for something before catching on. "You knew I was coming up here!"

Harry nodded.

"You were spying on me."

Harry shrugged and admitted, "I feel less guilty now that you know."

Marvin shook his head. "You wouldn't be pushing this unless you were completely certain it would work. And there's no way we're not going to do this eventually, so you're right. The sooner, the better."

"Funny," Harry grinned. "I was just thinking that."

"Dad! Stop that!"

"Sorry," Harry admitted. "I'll be good."

Marvin huffed. "This is weird enough as it is."

"I said I was sorry," Harry repeated. "Now strip down and cover yourself in honey."

Marvin just stared.

"Kidding," Harry said. "We just need to wear a couple of linked soul trap necklaces so we can meet up in their metaphysical room." Harry handed his son a necklace explaining, "You remember beginning Occlumency? How you'd meditate…"

* * *

"Bloody hell!" Marvin shouted at the top of his lungs.

"What? What is it?" Harry asked fearfully, wondering what could have gone wrong. "What's happened?"

Marvin looked at Harry as if he were inspecting some strange creature. "You didn't lose your virginity until my fourth birthday! That's insane."

Harry sighed and looked at his son. "You really want to go down this road?"

Marvin shrugged.

"Fleur?"

Marvin gulped. "Don't tell Bill."

"He'd kill you. I'm still thinking about grounding you."

"It was after their divorce. And it was an accident," Marvin argued. "I wanted to see if I could resist the Veela allure!"

"It doesn't work when you want to bang your friend's mum _without_ the allure."

"I know that now," Marvin defended. "And I… hang on a second. _Fleur!_"

Harry knew it was pointless to deny, remembering his own encounter. "So that's why she was talking about a matching set."

"Gabrielle!"

Harry smiled. "I wanted a set of my own."

"Jason's mum? Celestina Warbeck? The Holyhead Harpies!"

"Look," Harry interjected. "We know some things about each other that we really don't need to know. Use Occlumency to lock them away and stop thinking about them."

Marvin flinched as memories were streaming by. "Great Merlin. I really didn't need to see Luna play thirty rounds of 'Do you think it'll fit?'"

Harry couldn't hide the grin spreading across his face.

"Oh stop smiling!" Marvin snapped, looking away from his father.

Harry put up a hand and diplomatically suggested, "Why don't we take a little time apart to sort through these new memories? That way we don't have to ever bring them up and we can pretend we don't have them."

"Yeah," Marvin quickly acquiesced. "That's probably a good idea."

Harry felt like burning off some magic while Marvin grabbed another beer and went back to the couch in the living room.

Harry was casting spells in rapid succession when he felt the connection flare angrily. Marvin had been blocking him out, but that emotion was too strong and bled through.

Harry briefly tried to think of what could have prompted such a reaction when the _Sonorus_-enhanced voice reached him.

"You lied! I knew it!" Marvin shouted. "I knew you were crying when I dressed up as Frankenstein's monster for Halloween."

Harry grumbled, knowing he did have something in the neighborhood of a breakdown that day. "Marv," he growled back urging him to think that one through.

"Oh! Oh…" the voice sounded apologetic. "Right."

Harry was beginning to wonder if he should've thought this plan through a bit more.

A loud shriek echoed through the air. "You named me after Marvolo? MARVOLO!"

Harry sighed. It was going to be an interesting dynamic for a little while.

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**THE END  
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_**Author's Note**: Most of my ficlets like this can be taken as plot bunnies up for grabs or challenges meant to inspire others. I'm not taking this idea any further, but I'd love to see someone else do it. And yes, this ficlet title comes from The Killers "All These Things That I've Done." Or rather it comes from a Nike commercial that uses the song.  
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	14. Quibbleer

_**Author's Note**: This is a **new Harry Potter crackfic one-shot**. Too much crack and not enough humor to turn this into anything more than a piece of WBN.  
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Disclaimer**: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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**QUIBBLEER**

The war with Voldemort was not important today. Yes, he'd taken over the Ministry, and yes, things were looking grim. Sure, Lucius Malfoy was Minister and Voldemort had been publicly pardoned as a scapegoat of the deceased Albus Dumbledore's evil muggle-loving machinations.

But the resistance needed a break. So today, they were celebrating both Harry and Neville's birthday on a beautiful sunny afternoon in the orchard behind the Burrow.

Fawkes had gone across the countryside transporting the guests and singing songs to ensure that they left their worries at the door.

The wizarding wireless was blasting. There were pick-up games of Quidditch, gnome tossing, broom racing, and friendly duels. Lavender Brown was happily judging a 'Who Snogs Better' contest blindfolded, unaware it was just Dennis Creevey having the time of his life.

Two enormous birthday cakes and one loud and obnoxious birthday song later, it was time for presents.

Neville went first, unwrapping a gift of humorous Snape target practice photos that screamed and bled when you hit the bullseye.

Harry peeled back the paper on one addressed to him and found a framed photo of his parents. James was partially covered by an invisibility cloak while Lily was chasing his floating head and two feet, snapping his invisible ass with a wet towel.

The gifts continued as the guests of honor took turns, ending with a tittering and twitchy Luna Lovegood presenting them both with a six-pack of unmarked beverages.

"I made these for you!"

Neville held the box a little further from his body. "Oh no. More pee. It's sixth year all over again."

"Don't be ridiculous, Neville," Luna scolded with a frown. "I made these with the gift Harry gave me for the anniversary of my future death."

Neville glanced at Harry remembering the oddness of that unexpected excuse to party. "What did you give her?"

Harry was about to reply that he bought her a new potions kit to replace the one he'd destroyed when Luna exclaimed, "He bought me my very own home-brew kit!"

Neville relaxed a little. "These are… potions?"

"Not that kind of home-brew," Luna insisted. "It was a home brewery kit. I made my own beer!"

Ron suddenly started paying more attention. "Beer?"

Luna nodded eagerly. "Daddy says we can sell it!"

Harry and Neville shared a look of unease.

"We're going to call it Quibbleer!"

Harry pulled one of the bottles from the carrying tray and stared at the more phallic than usual shaped bottle labeled with three crayon Xs.

Hermione saw the worry on Harry's face. "Quib…_bleer_?"

Luna nodded eagerly. "The officially sanctioned beer of the Quibbler."

Hermione glanced at the excitable young blonde woman. "And you've decided to name it… Quibbleer?"

Luna turned and earnestly admitted, "I wanted to call it SPEW but apparently someone's already using that name."

Ron snorted and began to choke on his pumpkin juice, refusing to meet Hermione's death stare.

"Come on, birthday boys," Luna urged. "Try it! It's really good."

Harry saw Neville looked as scared as a first year and kindly replied, "Maybe later we can…" He trailed off as he saw tears quickly forming in Luna's wide innocent eyes.

Luna started sniffling. "Buh- buh- but I rushed it to formula for your birthdays." She was jutting out her bottom lip and looking as pathetic as she could.

Hermione had noticed Harry's hidden amusement at the SPEW comment and was feeling vindictive. "Come on, Harry. She made it special for you. The least you can do is drink it."

Harry snapped a furious glare at his traitorous best friend.

Hermione ignored him as she moved over to comfort the nearly inconsolable Luna. "It's okay, Luna. I remember when I didn't have any friends either."

Luna wiped her eyes and nose but kept frowning. "Yeah but you were really annoying. And not using sex as a weapon." She sniffled some more and made sure the top two buttons of her blouse were undone.

Neville looked over at Harry inquiringly.

Harry leaned closer to him and whispered, "I swear it was just a normal potions kit. I think."

"We'll do it," Neville announced ignoring the fact that he was now the target of Harry's anger. "Come on, Harry. Be a man."

Harry looked over and knew he couldn't deny Luna's pathetic puppy dog face any longer. He saw Hermione's smug grin as she read the defeat in his posture. "But let's not be selfish." Harry grinned back as Hermione's face began to pale. "There's enough here to share."

Harry flipped the cap off and held out the penis shaped bottle to Hermione who was staring at it as if it were a hand grenade and he'd just pulled the pin. "Come on, Herms," Harry said using a nickname just to piss her off. "The least you can do is suck one down with the rest of us."

Hermione saw Luna's brilliant smile and gingerly took the bottle.

Ten of the lucky guests received bottles along with each of the birthday boys. Luna was clapping excitedly, uncaring of the fearful looks on all the faces around her.

"Well, go on," Luna urged despite the sizzling pops and cream-colored smoke floating out the bottles. "Drink up!"

"To Harry and Neville," Fred Weasley called out, lifting his bottle in toast.

All the others echoed his words as Harry added, "And Luna."

They echoed the toast again.

Harry started to slowly bring the bottle to his mouth and saw everyone else was mimicking him. No one wanted to be the first and time seemed to slow down as the bottles inched closer and closer to open, nervously puckered lips.

"Just do it!" Luna snarled like an angry dragon.

Neville jumped slightly and Harry flinched.

"Alright," Harry said, searching deep inside himself for a little Gryffindor idiocy with a side of courage. "Three, two, one."

Finally, as a group they all tipped their bottles up and into their mouths. Only as Harry swallowed down the fizzy peppermint flavored concoction did he realize everyone else had placed their thumbs and fingers over the bottle and he was the only one who actually drank it.

"Traitors," Harry grumbled as he felt his stomach tingling. He licked his lips and admitted, "Hey. That's not bad."

"Works for me," Ron said, deciding Harry not doubling over in crippling pain was sufficient. He tipped his bottle back and chugged the whole thing.

Harry was smiling as he took another, larger sip and marveled at the surprisingly delicious taste.

Ron let out a loud belch as he finished off his bottle of Quibbleer. His eyes widened in surprise and he said only, "Uh-oh" before his entire body exploded in a violent gory mess.

People began screaming and those nearest to Ron were covered in a pink gooey mist.

Harry was spitting everything in his mouth out as fast as he could and beginning to hyperventilate.

It was barely a second later before another belch was heard and Ron reappeared standing right where he had been, still holding the bottle. He was white as a sheet before his face split into a smile. "That was awesome!"

Ron looked down at the empty bottle in his hand. "This stuff is awesome! I gotta get me… _whoa_." He'd taken a tentative step forward and without any sense of balance or equilibrium fell face first into the ground.

"Oww," was the extent of his commentary as he landed in the liquefied purplish muck that had once been his body.

Luna had her hands on her hips. "Like any good beer, you should drink in moderation, Ronald."

"Gotcha," Ron said as he crawled to his knees and looked up at the others. He smiled at the lightheaded feeling and tingles running throughout his body. "This stuff is awesome."

Harry tilted his bottle back and swallowed another mouthful. "It is tasty."

"Bottoms up," Neville said as he experimentally took his first sip.

Harry watched Neville and shook his head, "Coward."

Neville smiled at the pleasant drink and took a bigger sip. He leaned towards Harry and softly explained, "I'm not the one protected by a prophecy."

"Hey," Harry whined and frowned. "Is that why I always have to walk in front?"

"Sure," Neville agreed with shrug as he took another drink.

Harry blinked in surprise and narrowed his eyes at Neville.

Neville saw Harry staring at him and put his hand to his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

"Yeah," Harry admitted as he tried to focus his eyes.

"What is it?" Neville asked rubbing everywhere.

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "I can't read French."

"What?" Neville squeaked in a less than masculine manner. He looked down at his hands and arms as lines and lines of French handwriting became slowly visible and in focus.

"Hey Hermione," Harry called out as he took another delicious sip. "Come over here. What's this say?"

Hermione saw the dark red text appearing on the surface of Neville's skin and hurried over. She grabbed his arm and was reading as it spiraled around his wrist before dropping it suddenly and blushing brightly.

"What?" Neville asked nervously. "What is it?"

Harry saw Hermione open her mouth and close it without explanation. He spotted what looked like a title come into focus on Neville's forehead and tried to sound it out. "L'héritier du Marquis de Sade?"

"Oh good God," Hermione squeaked looking away from Neville and Harry.

"That sounds familiar," Harry said, thinking deeply. "I think Sirius left me some books that had that name on them."

"He probably did," Hermione muttered.

"Whah," Dean shouted as he fell to the ground. He pushed one of his shoes off and then pulled off the second. "Luna? Why do I have hands where my feet should be?"

"That's the beauty of Quibbleer!" Luna cheered. "It affects everyone differently."

Neville huffed. "So I get French writing all over my body?"

Luna nodded. "This time at least. The next batch may be different."

Ron had rolled over and was sitting on the ground. "I hate the color orange." He tilted his head and looked to the sky. "Is this what being full feels like?"

Fred was pinching his arm and scratching deep gouges. "Pain feels awesome!"

"Ginny," Seamus said in a husky voice. "When did you get such nice curves?"

"I'm George," the Weasley twin insisted as the Irishman approached.

"Yes, you most definitely are," Seamus agreed as he began to massage George's shoulders.

"No you don't get it," George said louder twisting out of Seamus' grip. "I'm George! George Weasley."

"I know your name, Ginny," Seamus replied with a lecherous wink.

Ginny watched her older brother begin to run and shook her head in amusement. She'd finished off half her bottle and let out a loud belch.

Everyone turned to the sound and saw her complexion turn a little green. Her hand was covering her mouth and she looked like she was about to be sick.

"Oh god that tasted awful."

Ginny's head shot up and she spun around.

"What the hell was that?"

Dean crawled over on his four hands. "Ginny… did you just talk out your arse?"

"Maybe," the response came clearly from Ginny's behind.

Dean stopped before he got much closer. "That wasn't a belch, was it?"

"Didn't taste like one," her ass whispered in reply.

Harry took two more large gulps and had finished off his bottle of Quibbleer. He noticed Hermione's bottle was still nearly full. "Come on, Herms. Drink up."

Hermione looked at her bottle and then back at Harry. "I'm waiting to see what happens to you."

Harry scratched his forehead. "To be honest, I feel fine."

"Nothing?" Luna asked with a frown. "Nothing at all? It could be something minor."

"Well," Harry admitted. "My scar is kinda tingling. It doesn't hurt, just… itches a little." Harry shrugged. "But that's perfectly normal for me."

The music on the wizarding wireless cut off abruptly. All of the party's attendees turned to look at it when a loud voice began to address them.

"_Attention, my fellow wizards_," it began.

"Oh crap," Harry said having recognized the voice.

"_This is your emperor Voldemort. I have just come from an intense discussion with the former Minister of Magic as a serious issue has been brought to my attention._"

Harry and all the others had drawn their wands and exchanged meaningful silent glances.

"_This will come as a shock to you, so you may want to sit down._"

"Is he being… nice?" Neville whispered to Harry.

"_See, the thing is, it turns out… I'm a half-blood named Tom Riddle_."

"Holy fricking shit," Harry swore looking down at his empty bottle of Quibbleer.

"_I know, I know. I was as surprised as you are,_" the announcement was slightly interrupted as Voldemort was being distracted. "_Shh! Stop it Nagini!_"

"_Witch mother, muggle father, that's me. So all that stuff you may have heard or believed about halfbloods and mudbloods being weaker? We got it completely backwards. It's the purebloods that are fucking retarded._" He seemed to lean closer to the magical microphone and confided, "_And easily manipulated, let me tell you._" The voice drifted off, "_Stop it, Nagini. That tickles._"

Voldemort returned to his address. "_The status quo cannot continue. So from this point forth, all purebloods are required to-_" There was a muffled crash and he was shouting away from the mic. "_Oh for the love of me. What is it, Nagini?_"

There was a pause and everyone seemed to take a moment to glance at Harry.

"_Fine_," came the muffled snap. "_Yes, you can eat Wormtail._"

An ear piercing shriek could be heard amongst desperate pleas of "_No Master, no! I am your most faithful!_"

The screaming sounds coming across the wizarding wireless lessened as Voldemort was back. "_Now… where was I?"_

A different distant voice responded. "_My Lord? I believe you were cruciating Severus._"

"_Nott!_" A very recognizable voice harshly snarled. "_What are you-_"

"_Crucio_!" The angry incantation interrupted and was rewarded by more screaming and the sounds of violent thrashing.

Pretty much everyone at the party was openly snickering.

"_Oh, I remember now_," Voldemort's voice cheerfully came back as the spell ended. "_As I was saying, from this point forth all purebloods are required to register at the Ministry of Magic whereupon they will receive the pureblood mark. A skull with a serpent tattoo-_"

"_My Lord!_" a distant voice shouted.

"_Err… oh right. Well, we're still deciding on the exact details of the pureblood mark. But all purebloods are required to register. And Harry Potter too,_" was hastily added before Voldemort seemed to jerk in surprise."_Potter! That's another one. Cagey little bastard…how could anyone think purebloods are more powerful?_"

The announcement was interrupted again by a loud and disgusting gack-filled sound.

"_Oh Nagini,_" Voldemort chided. "_Must you regurgitate and re-eat all your food? Someone cut Peter's hand off or she's just going to keep coughing him back up. Hmm? Oh right._" Voldemort's public voice returned and he signed off. "_Thank you for your cooperation. And we will now return you to your regularly scheduled programming._"

There were several muffled sounds as Voldemort asked, "_How do you turn this thing off-_" before suddenly the music was back playing in the middle of a Weird Sisters' classic.

Everyone at the party turned to stare at Harry who was holding his empty bottle in awe.

"Luna," Harry said ending the silence. "You have got to get me some more Quibbleer."

Luna squealed happily. "You like it? I knew you'd like it."

Harry just nodded eagerly and grabbed the nearly full bottle out of Hermione's hand. He tipped it back and chugged the whole thing as if he'd been stuck in the desert for days.

He pulled the empty bottle from his mouth and wiped his chin with the back of his hand with a bright smile. A belch forced its way out of Harry's surprised mouth. "Oh bugger," was all he said before exploding in a shower of gore.

Most of the partygoers had erected shields in time and remained splatter free as the second belch heralded Harry's return to where he was standing.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Moderation," was the last thing Harry said before falling backwards into unconsciousness.

* * *

**THE END  
**

* * *

_**Author's Note**: I'm not a huge fan of this fic or how it came out but I love the idea of Luna brewing her own beer. And I kinda like saying the word _Quibbleer_.  
_


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